


Call Me Friend But Keep Me Closer

by Cithara



Series: Post War Romances [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Developing Relationship, Drama, Fluff and Angst, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Healing, Humor, M/M, Mild Angst, Post-Hogwarts, Post-War, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:42:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 56,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25487185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cithara/pseuds/Cithara
Summary: Lost and adrift after the final battle, Harry moves in with George. While they both try to figure out where their lives are headed and how they can adjust, they embark upon a sexual relationship, no strings attached. Will it stay that way, or will something casual turn into something more?
Relationships: Harry Potter/George Weasley
Series: Post War Romances [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1938715
Comments: 420
Kudos: 687
Collections: Platinum - HP, Talullah’s favorite HP fanfics, harryxanyoneandeveryone





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Here we go, diving straight back in with a new story. This is canon up to the end of book 7 and picks up a couple of weeks after the final battle. Obviously it disregards the epilogue. I'll be updating a chapter a week, probably on a Friday. Hope you enjoy the first one, please let me know.

Chapter 1

Harry had imagined that once Voldemort was dead and all the battles had been fought that life would somehow return to normal. Of course, his life had never been what anyone would consider normal so he wasn't sure exactly what he was expecting.

Maybe it was that he'd expected to _feel_ normal more than anything. He'd expected to feel happy and hopeful; what he felt instead was numb and discontented. He existed in the weeks after the final battle in a haze, plastering a smile on his face whenever it was required of him and giving appropriate responses to questions when necessary.

He went to live at The Burrow, although he didn't really remember agreeing to do so. Molly's mothering was equal parts comforting and infuriating and he found himself exchanging glances with George over the dinner table almost daily. The man had also returned under duress and seemed to be faring little better than he was. Some days he wondered which of them would snap first.

He supposed the biggest surprise had been Ginny pulling him to one side and very kindly telling him that she thought it best if they didn't resume their relationship with one another.

" _I care very deeply for you,"_ she had said, _"just not in a romantic way. All that time you were away I missed you so much…but in the way I would one of my brothers, like Ron. Well ok, maybe not Ron, but certainly Bill and Charlie."_

Even Harry, with his stunted emotional intelligence, had recognised that being told you were thought of as a brother wasn't a good sign when one was hoping for romance. When he examined his feelings a few days later he realised that he wasn't heartbroken, nor was he pining for Ginny. It was the _idea_ of settling down with someone cosy and familiar that he was sorry for losing, the loss of his potential future with the wife, house and 2.4 children.

Ginny clearly had more sense and self-awareness than he did and he was grateful to her for saving them both from a potentially disastrous future. She had decided, very certainly, that all her focus was now going to be on pursuing a professional quidditch career and her 7th year would be spent captaining the Gryffindor team to victory.

The issue of returning to school had proved thorny and Harry was surprised to find that Ron, and even Hermione, were in accordance with him. He'd been thinking how to broach the subject when it came up quite naturally over dinner one night. Everyone had just finished loading their plates when Molly looked up at them and said quite benignly,

"I know it's a little while yet but we should start thinking about your 8th year. Ron, you've shot up again, I shouldn't think your old school trousers will fit you. We'll need to take a look at the reading lists too, of course, but there shouldn't be – "

"Um…Mum," Ron ventured, looking a little pale. "I'm not going back for 8th year."

Molly blinked at him, her fork poised halfway to her mouth. Beside her Arthur was looking down at his food as though it contained all the answers to the universe. Harry chanced a look up at George, who was watching proceedings with a glint in his eye. George treated family dramas the way some people viewed blood sports and his enjoyment was often a tad worrying.

"Don't be silly," Molly said, recovering herself. "Of course you're going back."

"No," Ron said quietly but firmly. "I'm not. Hermione and I are…going to Australia."

"What?" Molly asked, sounding scandalised.

"We're going to find my parents," Hermione said softly.

"Oh, sweetheart," Molly said, her shoulders retreating from up around her ears. "Of course you want to find them but…might it not be better to leave it to the authorities?"

"They're tied up with all the fallout from the war," Ron said levelly. "They aren't going to bother with two muggles who have, for all intents and purposes, emigrated voluntarily. Besides, the magic Hermione used was treading the line of legal; we don't really want to alert people to it."

Molly looked perturbed but, to her credit, didn't fly off the handle. "What about your NEWTs?" she asked.

"We'll manage without them," Ron said, taking hold of Hermione's hand. "Besides, we'll still be able to take them in the future if the need arises. We're not closing the door on education, just thinking of other avenues."

Somewhere along the way Ron had learnt the art of negotiation and the benefits of placating his mother. It was further proof that the last year had matured him in a way school never could have done and Harry was proud of the man his friend was becoming.

"When were you thinking of going?" Molly asked, and it was clear that the last year had changed her too. Perhaps she had realised that the best way to keep her children close wasn't to suffocate them with motherly concern.

"Next week," Hermione said, and Harry felt a jolt go through him at the realisation that he hadn't been included, not even to debate the issue. It made it all the more apparent that they were shifting from a threesome to a twosome and Harry didn't know how to feel about that.

He kept quiet for the rest of dinner; he didn't think it would go down too well if he announced that he had no plans to return either. He finished his food then offered to do the washing up to give himself a distraction. His head was muddled and he wasn't in the mood to try and untangle his thoughts.

After he was done he went out into the garden and wandered around for a bit. The evening was pleasantly cool after a rather warm day and Harry enjoyed the gentle breeze that fluttered through the trees. He took a seat on one of the stone benches that bordered the large pond and watched the fish swimming leisurely.

"So, when are you going to tell Mum that you're not going back either?"

Harry turned his head and saw George standing there, his hands in his pockets. "How do you know I'm not going back?"

George laughed and said, "You're easier to read than a children's book. Besides," he said, taking a seat next to Harry, "after what you've been through somehow I can't see you trotting back to school like nothing's happened."

Harry sighed and said, "The idea of going back there…attending lessons, following rules, being treated like a kid…I just can't."

"I don't remember you ever being particularly good at following rules."

"That's rich coming from you," Harry said with a snort and George gave a soft laugh.

"So what _are_ you going to do?" he asked, twirling his wand between his fingers.

"I haven't got a clue," Harry said, shaking his head. "I guess I won't be going to Australia though. Sounds like that's just a trip for two."

He was aware how bitter he sounded and he looked sideways at George guiltily. The man raised an eyebrow and said softly, "Stung a bit, huh?"

Harry sighed and leant back on his hands, wishing he didn't feel so resentful. "I get it. They're a couple, it's what couples do but where's my place supposed to be now they're together?"

"Why don't you ask them?"

"Look, if you're going to be mature and rational then I can't talk to you," Harry said and George smiled. "I just can't face that conversation. Things change, I guess I have to change with them."

There was silence for a moment a pleasant kind of quiet where the reeds shuffled in the wind and a wood pigeon cooed somewhere in the distance. George had never been the sort of person who needed to fill in silences and his gregarious side had been dimmed since Fred's death.

"So, no school, no travelling to the other side of the world, what does that leave?"

Harry gazed out across the pond and wished he had a decent answer for that question. The silence stretched out, Harry becoming ever more aware that he hadn't given any response.

George took pity on him and said, "What about becoming an auror?"

Harry resisted the urge to shudder. "I don't think so. One dark wizard's enough for a lifetime. I…I was offered. Got a letter from the Minister himself to offer me a place in the corps, no NEWTs, no training even. Can you imagine anything so ridiculous?"

"You weren't tempted?"

"Not even a little. When I wanted to become an auror…I was a kid, it was the kind of dream kids have. Reality sort of stings."

"I get that," George said quietly.

"Oh fuck, George, I'm sorry," Harry said, feeling like an utter twat. "Here I am going on about career choices when you've lost…"

"It's ok, you can say his name," George said with a sad smile. "Given that everyone around here seemed hell bent on pretending he never existed it would actually be nice to hear it once in a while."

"Sometimes it doesn't seem real that he's gone. I keep…expecting to see him beside you and it's…just so strange."

"I feel like I lost an arm…more than that. I don't know…part of me is missing. I don't know how I'm supposed to…" George shook his head, his face suddenly ashen.

Harry reached across and placed a hand gently on the man's shoulder. George gave him a watery smile and Harry shifted a little closer. He'd never been great with words but he knew how much comfort he'd taken from Ron and Hermione's hugs over the years. He wrapped an arm around George's shoulders, a little awkwardly as the man was broader than him, and gave him a squeeze.

"Is that why you haven't been back to your flat since?" he asked gently.

George let out a shaky breath and said, "I can't face it. It's so quiet…the silence just resonates off the walls. I can't live there alone."

Harry paused for a moment, wondering if he'd just had a really good idea or a very bad one. "Why…why don't I come and live with you?" he said before he could stop himself.

George looked sideways at him with a frown and Harry removed his arm from around the man's shoulders and said, "Forget I said anything. It was a stupid idea."

"Why?"

"Why what?" Harry asked, his cheeks beginning to heat with embarrassment.

"Why is it a stupid idea?" George asked, shifting so he was sitting astride the bench.

Harry blinked for a moment then said, "Well…you don't want me bumbling around under your feet, do you? And I mean…Fred's room…you'll want to – "

"Harry," George said gently, "I'm not going to keep Fred's room a shrine. He'd have hated that. He'd tell me to get a hold of myself and stop being a pillock. Besides, how creepy do you think I am? You think I'm going to lock the room up and guard it for the rest of my days?"

"Well…no, but you don't want someone moving in so soon after…"

"You're not just 'someone' though, are you?" George asked, and Harry felt a comfortable warmth seep through his chest at the assertion. "Fred adored you, you know. He thought of you as a brother."

Harry let that comment linger for a moment before he asked, "And you? Do you see me as a brother?"

George gave him a sly smile and said, "I've got enough brothers."

It should have stung or felt like a rejection but instead Harry found himself grinning at George as though they were sharing something conspiratorial. If it had been any of the others telling him they didn't think of him as a brother he would have felt deeply hurt but somehow it made just as much sense as Ginny telling him he _was_ like a brother.

"If you want it the room's yours."

"I wouldn't be imposing?"

"Don't you think I'd tell you if you were?"

A couple of days later they broke the news to Molly, who took it far better than Harry had expected. He had yet to tell her that he had no intention of returning to school but perhaps there was only so much it was fair to dump on her at once anyway.

She privately expressed to Harry that she was relieved he was moving in with George and Harry could almost feel that relief for himself. " _The thought of him alone in that place…I just couldn't bear it_ ," she had said as she helped Harry pack his things, all of which didn't add up to much.

By the time Hermione and Ron left for Australia, Harry was ready to move into the flat. It was a profoundly strange feeling to bid goodbye to his friends and he couldn't help but do so with a twinge of resentment.

He did his best not to let it show and wished them well on their travels. He tried to avoid the knowing look that George sent his way and plastered a smile on his face as he waved the couple away, trying not to wonder how long it would be before he saw them again.

"Sorry about the mess," George said as he kicked open the door to the flat. It had been deeply eerie to walk through the empty shop downstairs, to see the shelves full of products gathering dust and hear the silence echo off the walls.

"A few cleaning spells and it'll be fine," Harry said with a shrug. It wasn't as bad as he'd feared and was mostly the result of being uninhabited for a few weeks. "I really thought you'd be more of a pig than this."

George smiled and said, "It's an impression I like to give off. Truth be told too much mess drives me insane."

"I'll bear that in mind."

A few spells later and the place looked a lot more cheery. The living space was all open-plan with a cosy sitting area, well-appointed kitchen and a dining table with a couple of chairs. The bathroom was wedged between the two bedrooms and Harry, not knowing which was which, looked at the closed doors with trepidation.

He looked over his shoulder at George, who was looking at the door on the right with his jaw set firm. Harry had once thought he would never see that face devoid of mischief and part of him would have done anything to see those eye sparkle with life again.

"I can…I can sleep on the sofa if – "

"Don't be daft," George said with a shake of his head. "You came here to live, not to bunk for a few days. Let's get you settled in."

He moved past Harry and opened the door. The room was nice but it became painfully obvious that it was full of Fred's stuff. The wardrobe was overflowing with clothes and the desk was littered with all kinds of detritus that would have had meaning to no one but Fred.

"This was a bad idea," Harry murmured, feeling like the biggest prat in the world.

"No it wasn't," George said softly. He extracted his wand and with a couple of precise flicks everything bar the furniture shrank into a compressed cube the size of a coin. George pocketed it, his mouth pressed into a grim line.

"What will you do with it all?" Harry asked quietly.

"I don't know…not yet. I haven't the heart to go through it all right now."

Harry couldn't ever imagine having the heart to do something so painful and, if it were up to him, that little cube would stay shrunken forever.

"I'll leave you to unpack and then we can…get a takeaway or something."

He shuffled out of the room and Harry wondered if he'd made as bad a mistake as it seemed. He felt like he was encroaching on George's grief, displacing Fred somehow, but perhaps it would have been worse for George to have been left alone.

Pushing it to the back of his mind, he set about unpacking his things and trying to make the room feel like home. Only time would tell if he'd made the right decision or not.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The first week was a rocky one. Being back in the flat was clearly harder for George than the man had anticipated and he locked himself away in his room for most of the day then shuffled around the living room at night. Harry lay awake listening to him doing God knew what, wondering if he should intervene.

Harry himself spent his time frittering the days away. He read a lot and also watched the TV that Fred and George had rigged up to somehow run with magic. George had mumbled something about not telling Arthur or they'd end up with him as a permanent houseguest. Harry wasn't entirely sure that would have been such a bad thing.

He considered venturing out into Diagon Alley but the sight of the crowds from the flat's window was more than enough to put him off. He couldn't bear the thought of fawning admirers or, worse, the condemning looks of those who had lost loved ones, those he hadn't been able to save.

It wasn't healthy for either him or George to be living the way they were and Harry wondered what the point had been in him coming to live there if all he was going to do was prop up their questionable coping techniques. He made a decision, nearly ten days after moving in, to do something about it.

It was a pleasant Saturday morning and Harry was developing a touch of cabin fever. He showered and dressed then gathered his courage and knocked on George's bedroom door. There was no answer so he thumped a little harder and called the man's name for good measure.

"'Mm sleeping," came the eventual, muffled, reply.

"I don't care, get up," Harry shouted back.

"Why?"

"Just get up."

There was no sound of movement so Harry sighed and let himself in. The room was dark, charmed curtains blocking out any hint of daylight and George was no more than a lump under the covers. With a slight quiver of trepidation, Harry approached the bed and prodded the immobile mound.

"Go 'way."

"It stinks in here. Get up and get a shower," Harry said, his nose wrinkling of its own volition. He was met with only silence so he removed his wand from his back pocket and said, "If you don't move I'll make you."

The duvet shifted and George's head poked out of the top of it. He eyed the end of Harry's wand dubiously and said, "You wouldn't."

"Don't try me," Harry threatened.

George opened his mouth and Harry moved his wand closer, George's expression turning to a scowl. He flung the bed covers aside and Harry blushed to see he was only wearing a pair of shorts.

"Fascist," George growled as he hauled himself out of bed and pushed past Harry to the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.

"And wash your hair, it's filthy!" Harry called after him, wondering if George had always possessed such an athletic figure. He didn't know why he was blushing; the Gryffindor dorms had seen much more X-rated cases of nudity over the years and he hadn't batted an eyelid.

George stayed in the bathroom far longer than necessary but when he emerged he was in fresh clothes and his hair was wet, its deep auburn looking even darker. Harry had taken the opportunity to cast a few cleaning spells over George's room and George took in the differences with a sour expression.

"I didn't know I was sharing a flat with Mary Poppins," he said, rolling his eyes as he cast a drying charm over his hair.

"Don't be a pillock. Come on, let's go."

"Where?"

"Get some breakfast."

"It's half eleven."

"Brunch then. Just get out."

They walked through Diagon Alley and Harry kept his head down as much as he could without walking into things. A few people cast looks his way but the majority were surprisingly respectful and simply gave him a courteous nod or a friendly smile. He and George made their way through the Leaky Cauldron and into the muggle part of London.

Harry took him to a café not too far away that did all-day breakfasts and ordered the works for them both. George complained endlessly but nevertheless stuffed his face until his plate was empty. He had dark circles under his eyes and his skin was paler than it usually was but he looked much better for a wash and a decent meal.

"We need to sort ourselves out," Harry said when he'd finished. He thought saying 'we' would be the more diplomatic route to take.

"Do we now?" George said with a raised eyebrow.

"I've been living like a zombie, existing on pizza and daytime tele, and Merlin only knows what you've been up to. It's not healthy to live like this."

"I had no idea I'd invited my mother to live with me."

"One more unfavourable comparison and I'll clock you one," Harry said, folding his arms.

"I'd like to see you try, short-arse."

Harry grinned and felt some of the tension dissipate. "You know I'm right. We can't keep living like a couple of slobs."

George leant back and said, "I hear they're making the more benign Death Eaters do community service rather than sending them to Azkaban. Maybe we could get one to come and clean and cook for us."

"Very amusing."

"I'm serious. Gregory Goyle in a pinny doing our dusting. The idea has merit."

"Your mind is a dark and frightening place," Harry said, signalling the waitress for another couple of coffees.

"As if you didn't know that," George said with a snort.

"We can't go on like we have been. We both need…something to work towards."

"You sound like a self-help book."

"I wouldn't know," Harry said snidely. George could be bloody hard work when he wanted to be. "Look, do you really want to spend your time locked in your bedroom day after day giving Filch a run for his money in the hygiene stakes?" He paused then added, "Is that what Fred would want?"

George's eyes narrowed and he said, "Low blow, Potter."

"Answer the question. Would Fred want this? Would he be proud if he saw you now?"

"Fred wouldn't think anything. He's dead."

Harry winced but held George's eyes nevertheless. "Then shame on you for wasting your life when he's lost his," he said, wondering if he'd really overstepped the mark this time.

George's face went blank and Harry didn't know if the man was about to cry or storm out in anger. He did neither; he sagged in his chair and looked as though all the fight had left him. Harry immediately felt guilty but he knew the old adage 'cruel to be kind' was sometimes an accurate one.

He squashed the urge to apologise. He was right and he knew he was; George needed to hear it and if it meant them falling out for a bit then so be it. George fiddled with the condiments on the table, refusing to meet Harry's eyes.

"I know I'm screwing up," he said eventually. "I just never imagined that I'd have to live my life without him. I don't know how to do it."

He looked up and Harry was taken aback by just how broken the man looked. He felt out of his depth; he had no idea how to help George, how to piece his broken life back together and he was overwhelmed by the sudden burden of this becoming his responsibility.

"I feel so alone," George whispered, and Harry wished he could take all the man's pain away.

"I know it's not the same thing but I'm here, you don't have to be alone."

George looked at him and Harry felt uncomfortable under the scrutiny. He knew he couldn't replace Fred, nor did he want to, but he didn't want George feeling that he had to suffer by himself, that he had no one to rely on.

"Maybe we should try baby steps, hm?" Harry said. "Let's just agree to be up at a reasonable hour, look after ourselves a bit better, hey? I mean…you're a healthy guy, you obviously look after yourself or you wouldn't be in such good shape."

He felt his cheeks heat as soon as he said it and George's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Why, Mr Potter, thank you for noticing," he said with a wicked smirk and, embarrassed though he was, Harry was pleased to see the man no longer looked distraught.

"I just mean that you're fit – no! Not like that," Harry sputtered. "Well, not that you…I mean…you're very – "

"Anyone ever tell you you're cute when you bluster?" George said with a grin, and Harry wondered if his face could get any redder.

He took a large sip of coffee and winced as it burnt his tongue. He was aware that George was still grinning at him and he resisted the urge to kick the man under the table. "So," he said, clearing his throat, "we agree to try and sort ourselves out a bit? Live like adults rather than pigs?"

He looked up and George's grin subsided to a teasing smile. "Alright," the man said, "I'll give it a go because you asked oh-so-nicely and I can't resist that adorable little face."

"Oh piss off, you prat."

Harry had expected to have a fight on his hands for the next couple of weeks but, surprisingly, George began to sort himself out with very little prodding. They found themselves in a routine that seemed to work and Harry enjoyed the rather cosy domesticity they began to create.

The flat was kept clean and tidy and they divided up the chores equally between them. They began keeping more sociable hours, getting up at reasonable time and sorting their sleep patterns out. Harry enjoyed the evenings they spent together, cooking dinner then vegging out on the sofa in front of a trashy television programme.

George was keen to open up the shop again but was oddly lacking in confidence without Fred by his side to collaborate with. George had a deviously inventive mind but he was lost without his partner in crime and Harry often found him frowning at reams of parchment, his frustration evident.

For his part, Harry was still unsure what direction he wanted his life to go. All he knew was that he wanted to make a difference, he wanted to help people, and so anything to do with the ministry was swiftly ruled out.

"What about becoming a healer?" George asked one evening while they were doing the washing up.

"A healer?" Harry repeated, pausing halfway through drying up a casserole dish.

"Is it such a ridiculous idea?"

"I don't know," Harry said with a frown.

"Oh look how cute you are when you're all thoughtful," George said, smearing washing up bubbles on the end of Harry's nose.

"Get lost," Harry said with a laugh, wiping his face with his sleeve. "What…I mean…I don't even know what qualifications I'd need."

"Well why don't you set up a meeting with McGonagall and see? You're not committing to anything, just exploring your options."

"I guess so. Yeah…yeah that's not a bad idea."

"There's no need to sound so surprised, I have lots of them," George said, flicking his wet fingers at Harry and showering him with suds. "And you really _are_ cute when you try to think."

"Thanks. Hey! What do you mean _try_ to think?"

A few days later he apparated to Hogsmeade and made his way leisurely up to the castle. There was still repair work that needed to be done but the place looked much better than Harry was expecting. He'd been nervous about returning but had squashed the urge to ask George to go with him; how could he ask the man to come back to the place he'd lost Fred?

He'd been doing so well and Harry was enjoying living with him but it was obvious that he was still struggling. Sometimes Harry would catch him staring off into space, his expression so sad that it made Harry's heart hurt. He hadn't yet worked out how to support George in those moments and had no idea whether it would be better to talk about Fred or not.

"It's good to see you, Harry," McGonagall said with a smile as she sat down opposite him.

"And you," Harry said sincerely. "You're staying on as headmistress then?"

"For the time being. Retirement is beckoning but I can't leave until Hogwarts' future is secured."

"Well, when you retire you'll definitely have earnt it."

He accepted the cup of tea she poured for him and the two shared an amused smirk when she offered him a biscuit. After the requisite small talk was out of the way, McGonagall leant back in her chair and regarded Harry with a smile.

"So you're thinking about becoming a healer?"

Harry paused then said with a smile, "Yeah…I am. A week ago it was just a random suggestion that George made but I haven't been able to stop thinking about it. It would be such a fulfilling job and I'd really be able to help people."

McGonagall gave him a cat-like smile and said, "I always thought you'd be making a mistake if you joined the aurors. Becoming a healer is a wonderful choice."

"I…um…I can't come back here…for 8th year. It's just…after everything that's happened I couldn't – "

"Harry," McGonagall said gently, "you don't have to explain yourself to me." She reached into one of the desk drawers and extracted a scroll. "I've spoken with St Mungo's to see what their requirements are for joining their training programme." She handed him the scroll and said, "These are the NEWTs you'll need along with recommended reading and prep work you should do to acquaint yourself with the basics."

Harry skimmed over the scroll in his hands and said, "How would I get these NEWTs without coming back?"

"I can put together a distance-learning course for you. The teachers will set and assess assignments and, when you're ready, you can take the exams. It depends on how well you think you'll be able to learn on your own."

They spoke for the next hour about Harry's options and McGonagall came up with a detailed plan for how he should study and prepare for the exams. If all went well and he managed to get the required qualifications then he would be able to join the training programme the following September.

For the first time in a long time Harry had something to think of other than defeating an insane psychopath. He had the possibility of a real future, something he could work towards, something he could achieve. He felt positive and buoyed, and by the time he returned to George's flat he was certain that he had chosen the right path on which to plant his feet.

"It sounds great, Harry," George said with a smile as he looked through all the things McGonagall had put together.

"I was thinking that I'd allow myself the next month or so to be a man of leisure then properly get stuck in, draw up a timetable and everything."

"You're a man on a mission."

Harry smiled; he felt like one. Having a purpose was oddly liberating and he felt that he would finally be working towards something that was solely for himself.

"I'm thinking of opening the shop again," George said quietly, creating an odd piece of architecture with his mashed potatoes.

"That's great," Harry said gently. "People could really use a little light in their lives right now."

George looked up and for a moment Harry thought he'd said the wrong thing but then the man smiled warmly at him. "Yes they could," he said softly. "It would be nice to be able to give that to them. It's why we started this whole thing in the first place, after all. We just wanted to make people smile."

"Well you always managed to make me smile," Harry said, pleased that they seemed to be on safe ground. "God, some of the things that went on at school…I don't know if I'd have got through them without you two and your shenanigans."

"We aimed to take irreverence to a whole new level."

"You succeeded," Harry said with a chuckle. "I mean…you guys were legends. Even the Slytherins had grudging respect for you."

"I don't know how we made it as far as we did without getting kicked out."

"Getting kicked out would have been a sad end. The way you guys left…it'll go down in history."

George laughed and said, "I'd love to say that it was spontaneous and effortlessly cool but a lot of planning went into that grand exit."

"Well it was worth it. That little scene will stay with me for the rest of my days. Umbridge's face was a picture."

"That old bitch. I wanted to do worse to her but Fred held me back. He was always the more rational of us two."

Harry nodded and said, "I know. He was always more…business-like."

George looked at him thoughtfully for a moment, his chin resting on his fist, then said, "You were always able to tell us apart. Even when we first met you always knew who was who."

It had been a particular talent that Harry had always been proud of, especially when Fred and George's own family members had often struggled. He smiled and said, "You have a tiny little scar under your lip that Fred never had. It was always a good marker."

"I took a bad tumble from Bill's broom when I was about five, knocked my front teeth right through my lip," George said, rubbing the scar lightly.

"Beyond that though, just because you looked the same didn't mean you were the same person," Harry said with a shrug. "There was so much that differentiated you from one another."

"Like what?" George asked, seeming genuinely intrigued.

"You're the creative one; Fred was always looking at the profits, seeing what your products would make but you just wanted to see if you could create them in the first place. You're more emotional, more in touch with how you feel; Fred was more reserved, more calculating. You're gentler, your humour isn't so barbed and physically you aren't as rough as Fred could be. Your tastes are different – I'd be willing to bet that all the thriller and fantasy films here are yours and all the action and comedy ones were Fred's and I know Fred couldn't even make toast but you're a dab hand in the kitchen."

George's expression was hard to read and it dawned on Harry that perhaps outlining their differences was perhaps not so tactful to a person who had lost their twin. "George, I didn't mean – "

"Harry, it's ok. It's actually kind of nice to hear all the things that make us different. It reminds me that…that I am a whole person after all. We spent so long as a team, as 'Fred and George' that I…I don't know how to be just George."

"I don't think it's going to happen overnight. Don't be too hard on yourself."

"It helps that you talk about him. No one else will and it just…kills me."

"We can talk about him as often as you like," Harry promised. He liked remembering Fred; he didn't want to banish him to exist only in old photo albums, he wanted to honour the vibrancy of the man's life, to acknowledge that he'd existed rather than confining him to a memory.

"You're a good friend, Harry. I'm glad you're here."

George gave him a gentle clap on the shoulder and began cleaning away their dirty dishes, looking strangely peaceful. Harry smiled, feeling that he might have made the right decision after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided that, as the first chapter was mostly introductory, I'd post another one and make this a two-chapter week. I hope you enjoyed it, please let me know.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

A week later George re-opened the shop and they were inundated with customers. More than ever people needed something to lift their spirits and families were in dire need of something to distract themselves with. Harry helped out behind the counter ringing up purchases and George joked that his fame was good for business.

George wasn't yet ready to produce a new line of products but there were plenty of products from the old line still to sell. It was good that he had something to focus on and Harry was glad to see the man so animated as he interacted with customers. He smiled and joked, especially with the kids, but there were plenty of times when Harry glimpsed the sadness behind the man's smile.

Harry helped with the stock-taking and inventory, glad to have something besides studying to focus on. He was trying to find a balance that would keep him occupied as well as enabling him to focus on all the work he had to complete. He had a purpose, he was happy and, alien though it seemed, h could honestly say that he was enjoying life.

"I need the contact details for the manufacturers you use for your packaging. We're running low on a few things," Harry said as he and George sat in the little office in the back of the shop going through paperwork.

"I'll fish it out for you later," George said as he rifled through a file next to his elbow. "Have you seen the invoices from the last quarter?"

"We went through this yesterday – I've put a new filing system in place. The old one was ludicrous."

"You make a fantastic secretary. I wonder if I could talk to you into wearing a pencil skirt and stockings?" George said with a wolfish grin.

"You're a sick man," Harry said, shaking his head.

"I notice you didn't say no."

George was flirting with him, of that he was certain, but he had no idea what it meant. George flirted with everyone, it was just in his nature, and Harry had no clue where the man's inclinations actually lay.

He wouldn't have given it much thought were it not for the fact that he was questioning what his own were. He was in no rush to find an answer, indeed he was rather enjoying having the time to devote to such an arguably frivolous thing after having his thoughts so dominated for so long.

Chasing horcruxes and fighting to defeat an insane psychopath with no nose had left him little time to do any research of the practical kind and he hadn't even had a moment to give consideration to the theoretical. He supposed he had always found members of his own sex attractive but he had thought it was in an objective kind of way. Now he wasn't so sure.

The notion that he was gay, or possibly bisexual, didn't bother him but the thought of exploring it in the glare of the media certainly did. He couldn't bear the thought of his first time being headline news or someone sleeping with him because of his fame. It turned his stomach to acid and he wondered if he'd ever be able to find answers in the way that others could.

There was a knock on the door and they both looked up to see Neville poke his head in. "There you both are," he said with a smile. "That frightened-looking girl behind the till said you were here."

"I can't see us keeping her on much longer," George said, shaking his head. "Frightened of her own shadow. What can we do for you, oh Slayer of Nagini?"

"Oh don't call me that," Neville said with a groan. "The papers are still full of it and it's driving me mad."

"Tough being under the media spotlight, eh?" Harry asked wryly.

"I have no idea how you've stuck it out all these years. It's hideous. Anyway, I'm not here to lament my new-found fame; we're turning 18 in a few days," he told Harry, "and I'd say we've earnt a celebration."

"Sounds good. What did you have in mind?"

"A night out in muggle London where no one know us and we can make complete fools of ourselves without the press documenting it. You both in?"

George nodded enthusiastically and Harry said, "Sign us up. I could really do with a little mindless fun."

"Well that's almost guaranteed if I'm there," George quipped and Harry snorted at him.

"Great, see you on Friday. We're meeting at The Leaky at seven, be prepared for some carnage."

The rest of the week passed peacefully enough with Harry enjoying the new routine he had found. He was a surprisingly good student when he had autonomy over his own learning and it helped that he now knew where all these studious energies were going to.

He had started the reading that St Mungo's had recommended and he could honestly say that he found it all fascinating. He was now certain that this was the path he wanted to be on and that focus was a welcome asset in his studies.

The night before they were due to go out to celebrate his birthday, Harry was up late in his room researching a paper on the effects of curses on his nervous system. He was trying not to get into the habit of staying up too late to study but he found inspiration often struck in the later hours.

He was about to call it a night and turn in when he heard noises coming from the living room. Wondering if perhaps George was up for a spot of late-night reality TV, Harry packed away his stuff and poked his head out of the bedroom.

George was sitting on the sofa with his head in his hands and Harry immediately felt like he was intruding on a private moment. Part of him wanted to turn around and pretend he hadn't seen the man but it wasn't in his nature to turn his back on a friend in pain. He walked silently over to the sofa and took a seat beside George, placing his hand gently on the man's shoulder.

George looked up at him, his eyes watery, and Harry shifted his hand to rub the man's back as George said, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

"You didn't. I was still up," Harry assured him as he continued to move his hand in small circles. "Want to tell me what's wrong?"

"It's stupid," George said with a shrug.

"Try me," Harry said gently. "Having witnessed some of your finest moments of stupidity over the years I can say with certainty that I don't mind them."

George gave a tearful laugh and leant into Harry's touch a little more. "I um…It's…it's tomorrow night," he said quietly and Harry understood immediately.

"First slice of fun without him, hm? That's got to be rough."

"How did you – "

"Emotional intelligence isn't my strong suit, I'll grant you, but even I'm not that dense. I can't imagine how hard this is for you."

George took a shaky breath and said, "I know it's pathetic but the thought of going out without him…having to just be me…on my own…it's so hard."

"You don't have to come if you don't want to."

"I can't hide myself under a rock…although the idea is appealing. I just don't know how to be on my own."

Harry shifted to wrap his arm around George, holding him tightly to his side. "It's not the same, I know, but you're not on your own as long as I'm here."

"It's not your job to babysit me."

"No it's not, but it's my pleasure as your friend to spend time with you."

"Damn," George said with a laugh, "you're good."

"Come on, tell me some stories about him, the stuff I don't know."

"It's late, you don't want – "

"Stories. Now," Harry said, snuggling down on the sofa and taking George with him.

"Well…did I ever tell you about the time we blew up Dad's shed?"

They spoke long into the night, George recounting stories of Fred and Harry chiming in every now and again with his own memories. At some point Harry summoned his duvet and wrapped it around them both as they continued to talk. There was still an aura of sadness around George, as Harry would have expected there to be, but the stories he told were done so with fondness and warmth.

George had suffered such a great loss and the hurt was almost too much for him to bear some days. Harry knew what grief was like but he couldn't imagine something as painful as losing a twin, especially considering the relationship George and Fred had had.

They'd been so close, they'd shared everything and George was lost without him. The stories he told were so bittersweet; they'd had so much fun together and their genius had been astounding when combined. It was painful to think that they would never be together again and Harry listened to the stories with equal parts joy and sadness.

At some point their conversation began to wane and the next thing Harry knew he was waking up with George cuddled against his chest, the duvet wrapped snuggly around them both. It was a surprisingly pleasant way to wake up, despite the crick in his neck, and Harry lay quietly, enjoying the peace and the closeness he felt to George.

It wasn't the usual way for two flatmates to wake up, that was for sure, but Harry certainly wasn't uncomfortable with it. He resisted the urge to run his fingers through George's invitingly shiny hair, deciding that that was probably crossing the line.

George shifted against him in a way that was really rather pleasant and moments later he pushed himself up off Harry with a groan. Seeing that Harry was awake, he flushed and said, "Merlin, I'm sorry, Harry. What a prat, I can't believe I – "

"George," Harry said with a laugh as he sat up, "did it look like I was complaining?"

"No…I guess not," George said with a sheepish smile. "Oh! Happy birthday!" he added as he woke up a little more. "What would you say to a big cooked breakfast?"

George did him proud with a fry up that could have fed half of Hogwarts and owls started appearing with birthday cards and gifts. To his dismay, the majority of them were from people he'd never met before, declaring themselves fans and admirers, which amused George no end.

Molly and Arthur had sent him a book on healing throughout the ages, which he found very touching, and Ron and Hermione had sent him a lengthy letter with the promise of a present when they were back in the country. "They don't say when that will be though," Harry said as he stuffed the last bit of breakfast in his mouth while he read the letter.

"How are they getting on?" George asked, topping up their coffee.

"They've narrowed down the search. Sounds like they're having a good time out there," Harry said, realising that it didn't sting as much as it had done before. He was happy for his friends and he was beginning to feel more content with his own life now he had more direction in it. "Something tells me we won't be seeing them for a while."

"Are you ok with that?" George asked with his usual acuity.

Harry sipped his coffee and said with a thoughtful smile, "Yeah…I think I am. After all," he added slyly, "I have my replacement Weasley, don't I?"

"That's all I am to you, eh? A substitute."

"And a pretty decent cook, to be fair."

"Be still my heart. However can a man take such compliments?"

"Well, I guess the fact you're fairly easy on the eye helps," Harry teased and George raised an eyebrow while an impish glint settled in his eyes.

They smiled at each other for a few moments, Harry delighting in the ease and silliness of it. "I suppose I'll give you your present after all," George said with a grin.

"You didn't have to – "

"Please, no false protestations about not wanting anything," George said, holding out his hand and summoning a parcel from his room. "Here, hope you like it."

Harry opened it gleefully and was pleasantly surprised to find a dark brown jacket of brushed suede. "Oh wow, George. This is lovely. I had no idea you had such good taste."

"You really need to work on your sweet talk."

"I love it. It's the nicest thing I've ever owned. I'll look quite fetching, don't you think?"

"Quite fetching indeed."

The day passed very pleasantly. Harry gave himself the day off and sprawled in front of a couple of films while George created muggle IDs for everyone who would be going out that night. When Harry questioned the ethics of creating one for his underage sister, George just grinned and said he was proud.

Harry took his time getting ready and thought he did indeed look fetching in the outfit he chose, completed with his snazzy new jacket. George, however, looked incredible. Harry had never seen him in smart muggle clothes before and the tight, dark blue jeans coupled with a black leather jacket made the man look like a present Harry hadn't known he'd wanted.

"You look um…you look great," Harry said, feeling his cheeks flush.

"You too. You going to make me jealous having a bunch of hotties drooling over you?"

"Would you be jealous of them or me?" Harry asked daringly.

"Now there's a question," George said, wiggling his eyebrows.

They met up with the others in The Leaky and spent a fair amount of time exchanging greetings and birthday wishes. Harry was pleased to see Dean and Seamus again and even more pleased to see Ginny and Luna. Neville looked every inch the battle hero and Harry still couldn't believe the transformation the man had undergone.

Dean acted as their guide, as he was most familiar with muggle London, and they started their night off in a trendy bar that served expensive cocktails and beers no one could pronounce. The group was lively and several different conversations kept taking place at once. It took Harry very little time to realise that he was having a good time and it felt long overdue.

This was what normal people got to do. They had fun with friends and spent their time doing things other than risking their lives in fights to the death. It felt good to do nothing but laugh and joke, to talk about plans and discuss what everyone hoped to be doing in a year's time.

"Why don't you shadow Pomfrey?" Neville asked as Harry apprised him of his plans to become a healer. "I'm going to be doing that with Sprout."

Neville was returning to Hogwarts on a part-time basis to achieve his NEWTs in Herbology and a couple of other subjects while assisting with teaching the 1st and 2nd years with Sprout. He was almost guaranteed a place at The European Institute of Herbology but he'd decided to take a little time to recuperate after everything.

"You think she'd let me?" Harry asked, taking a long sip of his pint and dripping most of it in his lap.

"Couldn't hurt to ask. You could do a day a week, it would look great on your application."

Harry felt an arm sling itself around his shoulders and George said, "Will you still have time to be my secretary?"

Harry turned his head and grinned at the man. "Only if you provide the skirt and stockings."

They moved on to another couple of places and Harry began to feel pleasantly fuzzy-headed. He had very little experience with alcohol and he'd certainly never been drunk before, which Seamus pointed out with glee the drunker Harry became. He was pleased to find that he was a happy and affectionate little drunk and his friends kept teasing him about how cute he was.

George's hand seemed to find its way to his knee or the small of his back throughout the night and Harry's muzzy brain was all too happy with the tactile gestures. He found himself leaning into the man's body at every opportunity, feeling giddy whenever George responded in kind. He wasn't clear-headed enough to properly try and interpret it but he knew he was enjoying it so saw no need to question it.

Dean and Seamus flirted shamelessly with any woman who came into their orbit and Harry and Neville watched in fits of laughter as they were shot down time and time again. A couple of people made approaches towards George and Harry tried not to look too pleased each time he politely turned them down. Neville was the biggest surprise of the night when he confidently chatted up one of the bartenders and walked away with the man's phone number.

"You shameless slut," Ginny teased as they walked to the next place Dean was dragging them to.

"Jealous?" Neville asked as he slung his arm around her shoulders.

"Terribly."

"Was it because he looked so much like Draco?" Luna asked in her dreamy voice.

"Malfoy?" Seamus asked, sounding scandalised.

"Yes. Neville's always found him rather compelling, haven't you, Neville?"

"I was really hoping that would be shared with the group," Neville said with a groan as the others fell to teasing him mercilessly.

Harry privately wondered what had happened to Malfoy. The last he had heard Lucius has been sentenced to a stint in Azkaban and heavy financial tariffs had been levied on the family. Testimony from Harry himself had kept Draco out of prison but he had no idea what had become of him. The others didn't think he was returning to school and Harry couldn't help but be intrigued.

Dean took them to a club that was far too loud and absolutely heaving with people. All attempts to try and hold a conversation went out of the window and Harry let himself be dragged onto the dancefloor with Ginny, Luna and Seamus. The other three nabbed a table, protesting vehemently against dancing, and Harry was a little disappointed he didn't get to gyrate against George.

Harry himself was not a particularly accomplished dancer but one didn't need formal training in order to move their hips to a pretty consistent beat. He didn't care if he looked like a fool, he was having fun and it felt good to let go. He felt like any other 18 year old, a person on the brink of adulthood with all sorts of exciting things ahead of him that he might actually get to enjoy.

"Just popping to the loo," he yelled to Ginny as she and Luna danced together.

He shimmied off the dancefloor, weaving his way through the throng of people and apologising when he bumped into someone. Away from the main area it was a lot quieter and Harry felt his ears start to ring as he tried to locate the toilets.

"Hey, saw you dancing out there," came a voice, and Harry turned to see he was being followed by a tall guy with dark blond hair and several interesting piercings.

"Then you have my apologies," Harry said with a grin.

"No, you looked good."

"Do you need to borrow my glasses?"

"Seriously," the guy said, moving closer, "you're pretty hot."

"Oh," Harry said, his head feeling fuzzy as his ears continued to ring. "Well thanks. I don't – "

"You want to get out of here?"

"Out of here? Um I – "

"We could go back to my place. I could show you a good time."

"Oh…wow. Thanks," Harry said, feeling suddenly overwhelmed, "but I don't think – "

"Come on," the guy cajoled, backing Harry up against the wall. "I know you want it."

"Look, you're very attractive but I'm not interested in coming home with you."

"Don't be a tease."

"I'm not! I just don't – "

"There you are," came George's voice and he was suddenly by Harry's side, a protective arm wrapped tightly around his shoulders.

"Who are you?" the guy asked aggressively.

"None of your business. Now fuck off," George said as Harry held himself to the man's side, feeling far drunker than he had a moment ago.

"Don't want anyone else getting their hands on your boyfriend?"

"Seriously, fuck off before you end up swallowing your teeth."

"Problem?" Neville asked as he appeared with the others in tow, Seamus looking very much as though he was spoiling for a fight.

Having the sense to realise that the odds of one against seven weren't brilliant, the guy snorted and said, "Speccy git wasn't worth it anyway." He shoved past them and disappeared up the stairs, Harry sagging against George in relief.

"What a dick," Ginny said, wrinkling her nose.

"Everyone ready to call it a night?" Dean asked and they all nodded their agreement.

The others were all staying at The Leaky to avoid apparating on alcohol. So they all made their way back there, Harry and George bidding them farewell before they went back to the flat. Harry was a bit thrown by the tone the night had ended on, along with the fact that he was definitely still pretty drunk.

"They won't all be like that, you know," George said, leaning against the kitchen table.

"All be like what?" Harry asked, shifting out of his jacket.

"Guys showing an interest in you. Most won't be absolute fuckwits."

Harry snorted and said, "Doesn't matter anyway. Either I'm faced with muggle idiots or I have to deal with magical guys who just want to get in my pants for bragging rights."

George moved to stand in front of him and said gently, "Do you really think that's the only reason people would be interested in you? Come on, you have a hell of a lot more going for you than that."

"What better scoop for the papers than 'Potter tries to figure out if he likes men'? They'll have a field day."

"Then find someone you trust to help you figure it out."

Harry's head was spinning and he wasn't sure if he trusted his own two feet to keep him upright. George was standing so close and Harry was overwhelmed by just how handsome the man was. He didn't fully know what his inclinations were but he could say with certainty that he was attracted to George.

Feeling emboldened by the vast quantities of alcohol sloshing around inside him, he reached up and placed his hands on George's shoulders, leaning forward to kiss him. George responded immediately, enveloping Harry in his arms and kissing him with enthusiasm. Kissing a man was vastly different to kissing a woman and Harry's dazed mind decided, giddily, that he preferred it.

George was firm and strong, his kiss sure and unapologetic, and Harry couldn't help but moan as the man's tongue slid into his mouth. He felt like he was flying and he wasn't sure it was solely because he was pissed as a newt. He could have stayed in George's arms forever but all too soon the man pulled away.

Harry felt that he was pouting and George's smile told him that that was indeed the case. "Are you offering to help me figure things out?" Harry asked, aiming for coy but guessing it probably just came out mildly pissed.

"I wouldn't be averse to it. But right now you're going to go to bed."

"But – " Harry began to protest.

"Nothing's going to happen while you're drunk. Sleep it off and if you still feel the same way in the morning we'll have a talk."

He pressed a kiss to Harry's forehead and gave him a gentle smile before heading for his room. Harry grinned into the empty living room and decided, drunk morons aside, that this was the best birthday he'd had in a long while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed the chapter, please leave a review and let me know.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Harry awoke feeling as though someone had poured a bag of sand in his mouth and stuffed a dead cat in there for good measure. His head was thumping and the idea of moving was far too overwhelming. He was never drinking again, that was for certain. He was going to adopt a life of abstinence and drink only water for the rest of his days.

He hugged his pillow and wondered if it would be too dramatic to kill himself. At that moment he would have preferred to go another round with Voldemort and a few Death Eaters to feeling the way he did. He'd always thought that people were exaggerating when they talked about hangovers but he now knew their descriptions had fallen decidedly short.

He needed water before he shrivelled up into a dried up raisin and he tried to will his arms and legs to move. He all but fell out of bed and groaned as he pulled himself up into a standing position. He shoved himself into what he hoped was a clean shirt and pulled his jogging bottoms on. What an ignoble end for The Boy Who Lived to die of alcohol poisoning.

He trudged out into the kitchen, wincing at the daylight, and stuck his head under the faucet, glugging desperately. He heard a snort of laughter and he removed his head from the sink to see George standing outside the bathroom, a towel, and not much else, protecting his modesty.

Flashes of the previous night came flooding back and Harry didn't know whether to be embarrassed or excited. He figured he was probably somewhere in the middle. He cleared his throat and said, "I was thirsty."

"Clearly," George said with a smirk.

"Please tell me you have a hangover remedy. Something tried and tested that can stop me from dying?"

"Well, some people swear by a big, greasy fry-up."

"Ugh."

"Or some say a cold shower, can of coke and a brisk jog helps."

"I'd die."

"Well, me? I always think a hangover potion does the trick perfectly. Cupboard to your left."

"Oh thank God," Harry said gratefully, opening the cupboard and retrieving the potion. It smelt foul but it didn't deter Harry as he tipped the whole thing down his throat. He felt instantly better and he sighed with relief.

"Better?" George asked with a smile.

"That stuff's amazing. For the record – I'm never drinking again."

"I've heard that one before. I've _said_ that one before. You'll be back on that horse before you know it, I guarantee it."

"Not for a while," Harry said with a groan. "Thank God I didn't make too much of a prat of myself…I didn't…did I?" he asked, suddenly very aware of George's state of semi-nudity and of what had transpired between them the night before.

"You're an adorable drunk," George assured him.

"Well that's good to know. I'd hate to think I did something stupid."

"Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"If you want to ask me about the kiss, just do it."

Harry flushed and said, "Right. Straightforward approach…good plan. So…what about the kiss?"

"That depends on you. My offer's still open if you fancy it."

"Offer? Oh! Right the offer to…explore…things." His eyes travelled over the length of George's bare torso, which was peppered with freckles and toned and lean. Harry's hand itched to run along the length of it and it suddenly struck him as ludicrous not to accept the man's offer. "I'd really like to take you up on it," he said with a shy smile. "As long as you don't think we'd be jeopardising our friendship."

"It's just a casual thing. Two friends having fun, no strings attached. There doesn't need to be any drama involved."

"No, I guess not."

"I said I'd meet up with Lee and Oliver for lunch so…we can talk about this later. Sound good?"

Harry nodded with a smile and George retreated to his room to get dressed. Harry hopped in the shower and washed away the fuzziness of the night before. He intended to spend the day immersed in studying but he felt rather wired and couldn't stop his thoughts from wandering to George and their little arrangement.

He was excited but also nervous about what it might mean. He was attracted to George and he wanted to explore that attraction in a safe and fun way. He was guaranteed that with George and he was fairly giddy to think what they might get up to together. He had virtually no practical experience to speak of and he hope that he wouldn't be too much of a disappointment to George.

He wrote to McGonagall, asking if she would broach the subject of shadowing Pomfrey with the woman herself. It had been a good suggestion of Neville's, so good that his alcohol-soaked brain had remembered it through the haze of the night, and he was hopeful the idea would be well-received. Not only would it look great on his application but it would be invaluable to get that kind of experience.

He tried to keep himself occupied with his studies and checking through the inventory for the shop but his mind kept wandering to thoughts of George and what might happen between them. He was content to let the other man take the lead, indeed it would be nice for once to be able to take a more passive role after a lifetime of responsibility.

He was halfway through an outline for his Transfiguration essay when he heard George's footsteps on the stairs up to the flat. He felt a flutter of nerves but did his best to appear nonchalant as he heard the door open. Schooling his face into a relaxed smile, he looked up and said, "Good time?"

"Great thanks," George said as he shrugged out of his jacket. "You'll have to come along next time, they'd love to see you."

"Sounds good," Harry said, willing his heart to slow down before he passed out. He wondered why he had never properly noticed George; the man was absolutely gorgeous and Harry found it hard to keep his eyes off him. Judging by the look on George's face, he was well aware of his new-found interest.

George moved closer and Harry's breath caught in his throat as the man placed a hand on the back of his chair and leant over him before his mouth was claimed in a kiss that nearly had him falling off his chair. Harry would never have guessed George could be so sensuous but, as the man's tongue invaded his mouth in a devastating assault, Harry's blood pooled in his groin.

Harry responded eagerly, following George's lead and acting on instinct. He could have quite happily spent the rest of his life getting lost in the all-encompassing kiss, giving himself over to the simple pleasure of it. To his disappointment, all too soon George pulled back, but his disappointment was to be short-lived as the man said, "Fancy moving this to the bedroom?"

Harry's mouth went dry and he felt a flutter of nerves. "The bedroom?" he echoed.

"Only if you want to."

Oh, Harry wanted to, he wanted to very much and he just hoped his nerves wouldn't get the better of him. He stood up from the table and looked at George expectantly as he bit his lip.

"It should be illegal to look that enticing," George said in a low voice before taking Harry's hand and leading him to his bedroom. They were just over the threshold when Harry was enveloped in George's arms and kissed with such passion it took his breath away. He actually felt his knees go weak and he wondered why he had never experienced such a thing in the past.

George's lips moved to his jaw and teased a delicate line up to his ear. The man's tongue traced the shell of his ear and Harry shivered at the contact. "You're delicious, you know that?" George whispered. "You have no idea how hot you are."

Harry giggled stupidly and regretted the daft noise immediately. "I'm not hot," he managed to get out as one of George's hands travelled beneath his shirt.

"Beg to differ," George murmured as he tormented Harry's throat as his hand teased the skin of Harry's torso. He moved back a little and deftly pulled the shirt up and over Harry's head. His eyes roved Harry's body and he said with a grin, "Beg to differ indeed."

George nudged him gently to the bed and Harry took the cue and sat down on the edge, leaning back on his elbows. George removed his own shirt and Harry actually felt his eyes widen at the sight. George joined him on the bed and he was swept up in yet another breath-taking kiss.

He didn't know what to do with his hands or how exactly he was meant to respond to George's actions so he allowed his hands to roam along George's skin while the man kissed him senseless. George shifted so he was half on top of him, skin against skin, and Harry found himself delighting in the feel of the man's weight pressing down on him.

"You can tell me to stop any time," George said softly as he pressed gentle kisses to Harry's neck. "Don't be afraid to tell me what you like, what you don't like."

Harry wasn't sure exactly what he was supposed to say to that and didn't trust his voice anyway so he hummed his assent, feeling safe and secure beneath George. His breath caught as the man began to move down his torso, lavishing attention on his chest then his stomach.

He felt the man's hands on his jogging bottoms and he took a deep breath as they were slowly drawn down his legs. "Why, Mr Potter, no undies?" George said teasingly, and Harry's face flushed at the thought that someone besides himself was seeing him this way.

"No need to be embarrassed, believe me," George said, and even through his nervousness Harry could discern the appreciative glint in the man's eye. Before he could think of an appropriate response, one firm hand wrapped around his erection and Harry's eyes squeezed shut as he was assaulted by sensation.

No hand had ever touched him apart from his own and it was overwhelming to feel someone else stroking and squeezing him. George was gentle but firm and somewhere along the line he had cast a lubrication charm that had slicked his palm up deliciously. Harry groaned as George rolled his hand over the head of his cock while his lips moved to Harry's neck.

"You don't have to hold yourself back," George whispered as he sent shivers down Harry's spine with his sensual kisses. "Just let yourself feel."

"Mm," Harry hummed, which was all he was able to do at that moment.

"Do you want me to suck you?" George murmured in his ear and Harry did his best to hold back a whimper.

"Fuck yes," he managed to croak out, and George swept him up in one of his earth-shattering kisses before he snaked down his body. When the warm flatness of George's tongue lathed the head of his cock Harry thought he might pass out from the pleasure of it.

"You're so responsive," George said, and he sounded so pleased by the fact that Harry bit back the apology on his tongue.

George licked and sucked the length of his cock, pressing kisses to the underside and lathing it with his tongue. Harry knew he was being teased and he was enjoying every second of it. He didn't know what the proper etiquette was in these situations but his hands felt awkward simply lying on top of the bed and George's hair looked so inviting that he laced his fingers through the shiny locks.

George looked up at him with a sultry smile and Harry felt a thrill go through him at the sight of George between his legs, focused solely on giving him pleasure. George maintained eye contact as he drew Harry all the way into his mouth and Harry had never experienced anything quite so intense.

He was taken all the way to the back of George's throat and he thought his head was going to explode. One hand began to roll his balls gently while the other provided a velvet sheath around his prick that worked in tandem with George's mouth as it moved up and down. Harry had no idea how the man was managing to make his tongue do whatever it was it was doing but it was sending shockwaves of pleasure throughout his entire body.

His hand tightened in George's hair and he felt himself becoming overwhelmed by the amazing sensations. He knew he was drawing closer to the edge and he didn't think it was polite not to give George any warming and so said breathily, "I'm going to…going to – "

"Mm," George hummed around his erection and seemed to have no intention of moving. His pace sped up and his hand tightened ever so slightly and before Harry knew it he was coming hard, releasing himself down the back of George's throat.

He opened his eyes to see George gently licking his cock clean and Harry tried to remind himself how to breathe. "Fucking hell, George," he croaked. "That was incredible."

He pulled back and his eyes went to the very noticeable bulge in George's trousers. Still feeling giddy from his bone-aching orgasm, he gestured towards George's lap and said, "Should I…I should…"

"You should never feel you _have_ to do anything with a partner. Don't ever let anyone pressure you into doing something you don't want," George said and Harry felt undone by the man's consideration.

He smiled and said, "I want to."

"Well, in _that_ case," George said before standing up and shifting out of his jeans. He divested himself of his boxers and Harry took the opportunity to take a good look. George was long and thick and the sight of a penis other than his own was far more appealing than Harry imagined it would be.

George joined him on the bed again and Harry said, "What should I do?"

"Give me your hand," George instructed and Harry did so before George muttered a charm and his palm became slick with lubricant. George guided him to his erection and, with his hand closed over Harry's, began to move up and down his hard length.

It felt alien but oddly good to feel another person's erection in his hand and Harry let it move freely as George let his own fall away. "What do you like?" Harry asked.

"What you're doing feels pretty good. Just relax a little, change up the pressure every now and again, tease me a bit then keep it consistent."

Harry felt on familiar ground doing this and hopefully the next time he could work up the courage enough to blow George, or at least attempt it. He felt as though what he was doing was a little too clinical so he leant down and captured George's lips in a kiss.

The appreciative moan he received was encouraging and he hoped he could kiss as well as George. He continued to stroke the man as the kiss deepened, teasing just as George had asked. He let his hand wander to the heavy balls below and the sharp little gasp he drew from George was very satisfying.

He was enjoying himself. He liked touching George, it felt more than something he was doing in order to simply pleasure the man, it was pleasurable for him too. When he applied a little more pressure and moved his kisses to George's neck and collarbone the man arched upwards and whispered, "Oh fuck yes, just like that."

Harry risked using his teeth against George's skin and he bit down lightly while he pumped George firmly. The low groan from the man told him that he approved and, moments later, George came all over his hand. Harry stroked him leisurely until he began to soften, feeling inordinately pleased that he had been the cause of another person's orgasm.

"Well, Mr Potter," George said as he cast a cleaning charm, "that was just dandy.

"I did ok?"

George smiled and said, "Stop thinking about it as something to be good or bad at, just enjoy it and listen to your own needs and your partner's. For the record though – it was great."

Harry grinned and said, "So…we can keep doing stuff together?"

"Hell yes," George said emphatically. "Flatmates with benefits sounds like a great deal to me."

"Me too."

"I'm starving, let's go sort ourselves some dinner."

He gave Harry a friendly clap on the thigh then shifted off the bed, grabbing his jeans as he went out into the living room. Harry lay back, grinning up at the ceiling and thinking this this little arrangement was going to be a great success.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a little shorter than the others so I decided to update two this week. Hope you enjoyed the smutty goodness, please let me know!


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Harry was supposed to be watching the film George had chosen but he wasn't doing very well with his concentration. He wasn't all that interested in Gwyneth Paltrow and the story of 'what if' but he was mostly completely distracted by the man sitting beside him. George was so close he could smell the clean soapiness of the man's wet hair and occasionally their legs kept brushing together, sending a thrill up Harry's spine.

It had been a few days since their little encounter and Harry wasn't sure how things were supposed to play out between them. Should he be making the first move? Should he wait for George to do so? Should he make it clear that he would really quite like to try a few more things in the bedroom?

He had no idea how these casual relationships were supposed to work and he certainly didn't want to do anything to put George off. He really did want to explore things further though and was eager to see what other delights George had in store for him. At that very moment he was preoccupied with imagining what it would be like to go down on the man.

He had no idea if he'd be any good at it, indeed until a few weeks ago he'd never imagined doing it at all, but since George had performed the act on him he'd been unable to think of much else. He was so turned on by the thought of it that he found it hard to concentrate on much else.

He felt a hand on the back of his neck and he turned his head to see George smiling at him. "Something on your mind?" the man asked and Harry flushed. "You've got that glazed look you get when you try to do maths in your head."

"Rude," Harry said with a smile.

"Come on, what's got you rubbing those brain cells together?"

Deciding that, if he was mature enough to be engaging in such things he should damn well be mature enough to talk about them, he took a breath and said, "I was just thinking…just wondering that I quite fancied…getting up to something."

Ok so it wasn't quite the eloquent seduction it might have been but, judging by George's smile, that didn't matter much. He returned the smile, knowing he was blushing, and said, "What I mean is that…I want to carry on from where we left off the other day…if you do."

"I'd be only too delighted," George said with a grin. "Have you been sitting there thinking about this all evening?"

"All week," Harry corrected sheepishly.

George shook his head fondly and said, "Harry, if you want something just say so. If I don't want to do anything I'll let you know, just like I expect you to do. We don't need to dance around each other interpreting signals and making clumsy passes."

"Alright," Harry said, stoking up his courage, "I'd like to…to suck you," he said, feeling as though his face had caught on fire.

"Well that offer knocks this film into a cocked hat," George said with a look that went straight to Harry's groin.

Harry was hauled to his feet and dragged off to George's bedroom where they both made short work of undressing while kissing feverishly and Harry, feeling a little less nervous than the previous time, was giddy with how fun it was. George, despite evidence to the contrary, was sensuous and his touches were searching as well as confident, and Harry would have been content to be touched by him forever.

Feeling braver than he'd done last time, he reached down and wrapped a hand around George's erection while he savaged the man's neck with his teeth. George hummed low in his throat and dragged Harry over to the bed, murmuring, "Have at it, sir. Have your wicked way with me."

"What should I…"

"Just follow your instincts," George said gently. "I'll let you know if I don't like something."

Harry, despite the flutter of nerves he felt, couldn't help but feel excitement. George was laid out beneath him, a vision of pale skin and freckles, and Harry wanted to taste every inch of him. He was finding that, when it came to sex, giving could be just as pleasurable as receiving.

He pressed gentle kisses to George's neck then moved his mouth down over the man's firm chest. George was thin but wiry with muscle and he felt good beneath Harry's hands. He licked and kissed his way down the man's body, pausing for a moment when he came level with George's groin.

He took a breath then wrapped his hand around the base of the man's erection while he snaked his tongue out and licked the head. He swirled his tongue around it a couple of times then took it in his mouth and sucked lightly. He moved up and down, using his hand in tandem as George had done.

George's hand twined in his hair and, feeling encouraged, Harry tried to take a little more into his mouth. He found it quite easy to relax his throat muscles and he allowed the head of George's cock to nudge as far back as it would go.

"Oh Merlin, Harry," George said as he writhed beneath him. "Who the fuck deepthroats on their first time?"

"Not good?" Harry asked, concerned.

"Not good?" George echoed, his eyes wide with disbelief. "It's fucking brilliant! If you don't carry on I will hex you to within an inch of your life."

Harry grinned and lowered his head again, taking George all the way to the back of his throat again and again, then licking a trail up to the head and sucking lightly. He used one hand to steady things and the other to cup George's balls, rolling them in his palm and receiving a low groan for his efforts.

He was genuinely enjoying himself; George's prick felt amazing in his mouth and the sighs of pleasure from the man were delicious. He loved knowing he was the cause of it and he could have quite happily done it forever. George's breathing became shallower and he was pushing himself up into Harry's mouth with fervour.

Harry kept his pace consistent, humming as he did so, and George's hand tightened in his hair. "Oh fuck, Harry. That's so good…so fucking good," George moaned, and Harry was thrilled at his words, finding them a real turn-on. He reached a hand down to his own straining erection but was stopped when George breathed, "Don't you dare. I have plans for your cock."

Harry grinned as well as he was able to and focused all his energies on bringing George to completion. His head bobbed up and down in earnest and, despite George's warning he was about to come, Harry kept his mouth on George's prick until George arched and came with a moan.

Harry swallowed, the taste and texture strange and leaving his throat feeling a little fuzzy. He released George's softening prick and looked up, his heart jumping as he saw how incredible George looked, splayed out against the pillows, lips parted and cheeks flushed.

"Holy fuck, Harry. Deepthroating _and_ swallowing on your first time? That was fucking fantastic."

Harry grinned then found himself rolled backwards onto the bed, George above him as he said with a look that sent fire through Harry's veins, "I may have to chain you to the wall and keep you as my sex slave."

"Sounds brilliant," Harry breathed before he was swept up in one of George's bone-melting kisses. He'd never known it was possible for kissing to be so all-encompassing, to be able to lose oneself so completely in such a simple act.

"We're going to do something a little different," George whispered in his ear, making him shiver. "Just tell me if you don't like it."

"I doubt that's possible," Harry muttered and George chuckled before he slid down Harry's body. George's hands seemed to be everywhere and Harry closed his eyes as clever fingers danced over his skin. He had quickly become addicted to the way George touched him and he wanted to experience it as often as he could.

Kisses were trailed over his ribs, his stomach. Warm breath danced over his cock but George's lips travelled across his hips instead while sure, firm hands roamed up and down his legs. He hadn't guessed what George intended, indeed would have imagined it if he'd tried, but as he felt George's tongue lathe his entrance he thought he might actually pass out there and then.

"Oh my God," he whimpered.

"Ok Harry?" George asked gently.

"Mm," was all Harry could manage before George lowered his head and renewed his efforts.

Harry hadn't known that this was a thing people actually did but as George licked and kissed his way around his vulnerable opening Harry could more than understand why it was. His hands clenched in the bedsheets as George lavished attention on him, his nerves on fire as he was treated to wave after wave of pleasure.

It was so intimate, so incredibly overwhelming, that Harry thought he might lose his mind. He couldn't imagine ever being this comfortable with anyone else to let them do this but he trusted George so much that he was willing to put himself entirely in the man's hands.

He was gently breached by a searching tongue and his breath caught in his throat as he couldn't help but press down. He was so overwhelmed by the incredible sensation that he almost missed the lubricated finger that slid inside him. "Oh fuck," he groaned.

"Don't worry," George murmured, "I'll be gentle."

If Harry had full control of his faculties he would have been able to assure George that he knew full well that he wouldn't hurt him in a million years. As it was, all he could do was hum his approval as the finger, accompanied by that clever tongue, wiggled inside him.

It felt so strange but entirely welcome and Harry nearly flew as a second finger entered him. He was writhing on the bed but George's free hand came to pin him gently but firmly down. He found the little show of control strangely thrilling and dimly wondered if perhaps he was into that kind of thing.

He didn't have time to wonder for long as all thoughts were banished from his head the second George's mouth closed around his straining prick. He couldn't stop himself from gripping George's hair as he was taken all the way to the back of George's throat while he was impaled on the man's fingers again and again.

He stopped trying to think, stopped trying to hold on to any semblance of control while he was so completely lost in a world of pleasure. When those long, wicked fingers brushed against his prostate he cried out and came so hard he actually went light-headed.

He took a few moments to collect himself, evening out his breathing as George came to lie next to him. He turned his head and couldn't begrudge the man his self-satisfied smirk.

"Enjoy that?" George asked smugly.

"Don't gloat. It doesn't suit you."

* * *

"There's a get-together in Hogsmeade this Friday," George said as he read the letter in his hand over breakfast. "Nev and the others want to celebrate getting through the first week of term alive."

"I can't believe it's September already," Harry said as he went through all the things McGonagall had sent him. In between lesson assignments and shadowing Pomfrey he was going to be kept pretty busy, something for which he was grateful. Old, intrusive thoughts had begun to worm their way in again and the only way he knew to keep them at bay was activity.

"Lee and Oliver are going along too. Sounds like a reunion. Fancy it?"

"Yeah definitely. Count me in."

"Are you ok? You seem a little…preoccupied."

Harry faked a smile and said, "I'm fine. Just thinking about this stuff McGonagall sent me. Friday night sounds great."

George looked at him for a moment and Harry did his best to make his face passive. He wasn't up to an interrogation and really didn't want to lie to George more than he had to.

"Right, well I have a few suppliers to meet with so I'll see you back here tonight."

"Yeah, see you," Harry said with a wave as George grabbed his stuff and headed out.

Harry sighed and wondered if perhaps he should have talked to George after all. The man was very understanding and, whatever might be going on between them sexually, they were still friends. The trouble was that Harry had never been particularly good at expressing his feelings, to anyone, and half of what he felt he didn't even have a name for anyway.

He'd thought that he'd buried most of it, tucked it away in a neat little box somewhere where it would stay put but for some reason the start of the new Hogwarts term had brought it all back up again. He was reminded of the students who wouldn't be attending, whose families were mourning for them.

He was reminded of Teddy who would one day board the Hogwarts Express without either parent to wave him off. He was reminded of Fred and the children he would never get to have, the life he would never get to live. The horror of the last few months seemed to close in on him, threatening to choke him if he let it take hold.

He knew he hadn't confronted things, not in any real sense, but so many were struggling with the fallout from the war that he felt stupid and selfish for focusing on his own problems. After all, how could he talk to George about how messed up he felt when the man was in mourning himself? Sometimes it seemed the only option available was to bury it all down deep where it would stay.

The only thing he could do was keep himself occupied and, thankfully, with his study schedule and work in the shop he had enough to keep his mind busy. He threw himself into it for the week and worked himself so hard that he fell into bed at the end of every day thoroughly exhausted. By the time Friday rolled around he was more than ready to let loose and enjoy himself.

He and George, who had also seemed preoccupied all week, apparated to Hogsmeade and met up with the group in the Hog's Head. It was great to see Oliver and Lee again and Harry was starkly reminded of the crush he had once had on the former quidditch captain.

"They're hoping to restart the season soon, at least for training if nothing else," Oliver said as they all cleared their way to a table. He still had that rather manic glint in his eye when he talked about quidditch and Harry wondered if the last year with Voldemort had been nothing more than an inconvenience to Oliver's playing schedule.

"How do you rate your chances?" Harry asked as he felt George settle in beside him.

"Pretty good. We've got a decent team together finally and a Seeker actually worth the title. Are you considering going pro?"

"Nah," Harry said, shaking his head. "I'm pretty sure I'm going to become a healer."

"Oh," said Oliver, his disappointment so palpable that Harry couldn't help but laugh.

"He meant to say, 'congratulations, that sounds excellent'," George said, leaning over and casually wrapping an arm around Harry's shoulders.

Harry breathed in the man's scent, one that was becoming very familiar to him, and felt his body respond to George's proximity. He leant into him a little more, hoping no one would notice. George pressed forward, his chest against Harry's back, and Harry shifted slightly to increase the contact.

Flashes of what they had done together danced through his mind and he suddenly wanted nothing more than to be alone in their flat, putting himself quite literally in George's hands. He took a couple of glugs of his pint and tried to ignore what George's closeness was doing to him.

He tried to do so for the rest of the night and focused on the many different conversations around the table. They were a lively group and Harry enjoyed everyone's company. He particularly liked speaking to Neville and was struck, yet again, by the change in his friend, by his new confidence and the way he now carried himself.

"Well, hopefully I can start my own business when I have all my qualifications," he said as he moved around the table to sit next to Harry. "There's a real gap in the market for British suppliers, mainly because no one can get the tricky stuff to grow in this country."

"But you'll be able to?" Harry asked, beginning to feel pleasantly fuzzy-headed as the alcohol took effect.

"I hope so. All it takes is a little patience and understanding."

"Which you have buckets of," Harry said with a grin.

"Let's hope so."

"Speaking of patience and understanding," Dean chimed in, "how's it going with the blondie you picked up on your birthday? Seamus told me you said he was nice but dim."

Neville laughed and said, "He's a nice enough bloke but I'm not about to start picking out china patterns."

Harry listened as Neville talked about the barman he'd been seeing casually. If it had been a different time or they hadn't been such close friends Harry might have been tempted to set his cap at him himself. He'd developed into a very good looking man and Harry loved his personality. They were too close for anything to happen though, besides which Harry was currently thoroughly preoccupied with a certain redhead.

"My round," Harry said, noticing that everyone's glasses were nearly empty. "Same again?"

He made his way over to the bar, which was a couple of people deep with those waiting to be served. As he waited he felt a body shift behind him and he didn't need to turn around to know it was George. He smelt so good and the heat radiating off him was dizzying.

"Do you know how many eyes are on you tonight?" George asked softly, his mouth close to Harry's ear.

"People are always looking at me, goes with the territory."

"They're not just looking because of who you are, they're looking because you're fucking gorgeous," George whispered, and Harry was hugely turned on by the slight edge to the man's voice.

"Don't be daft," Harry said, feeling his cheeks heat with a blush.

"I'm serious. I've been half hard for you all night," George said, pushing closer.

"Only half?" Harry teased.

He felt George's breath ghost over his neck and a hand snaked over his hip, anchoring him in place. His body reacted immediately and he pressed himself against George's chest as the man whispered, "I want to fuck you."

"Oh Jesus," Harry breathed, becoming impossibly hard in seconds.

"Do you want me to?"

"Fuck yes."

"Let's get out of here."

They said hasty goodbyes to the others then, before Harry knew it, George had apparated them both back to the flat. He was pressed against the wall, George's tongue in his mouth and the man's hands roaming under his shirt.

"You have no idea," George murmured against his throat, "no idea how gorgeous you are. Merlin, if you only knew how much I want you."

Their clothing was shed with speed if not grace; they were both fairly tipsy and they laughed and giggled their way towards the bed, Harry pulling George down on top of him while the man palmed his cock. "Are you going to fuck me?" Harry asked as he writhed against the man.

"Only if you want me to," George murmured before he slid down Harry's body and engulfed his prick in his hot mouth.

"Oh yes…I _definitely_ want you to," Harry said with a groan as George sent his head spinning with a mouth that could do more than spew clever insults.

He felt a lubricated finger gently breach him, followed by another as George kissed his way across his stomach and up over his chest. "You look so fucking good like this," George whispered as he tormented his neck. "God I can't wait to be inside you."

Harry groaned, George's words going straight to his groin. Any nerves he might have felt for his first time were all but banished by how safe he felt with George, coupled with how positive his previous experiences with the man had been.

He pressed himself down on George's fingers as a third was added, wondering if George's prick would feel half as good. "Slick me up," George said, coating Harry's palm with lubricant and guiding it to his cock.

Harry stroked it firmly, George humming appreciatively as he rolled his hand over the head. A gentle hand cupped his chin and Harry looked up to meet surprisingly clear eyes as George said, "I promise I'll be gentle."

"I know," Harry said with a smile.

He was pressed back against the pillows as George kissed him deeply, his head swimming from the intensity of it. George shifted between his legs and Harry felt a thrill of nerves as he felt the head of the man's cock prod his entrance lightly.

"Just breathe and push down against me," George said as he breached him carefully.

Harry felt the pain as the man slid slowly inside him, pushing inch by inch forward. He squeezed his eyes shut as he did as George had instructed, pushing down as George entered him all the way to the hilt.

"It's ok, I've got you," George whispered as their bodies pressed together. He moved slowly and the pain began to subside to a dull burn. Harry focused on the feel of George moving inside him, of how it felt to have the man thrust gently in and out of him, overwhelmed by the feel of it.

"That's it, Harry, rock against me, get a rhythm going," George said before he leant down to press gentle kisses to his neck.

Harry tilted his pelvis and wrapped his legs around George, eliciting a low rumble deep in George's chest. "You feel so good," the man moaned as he continued to move with slow, deep thrusts.

"Kiss me," Harry demanded, and George complied as the discomfort began to ease and his pleasure began to build once again. He wrapped his arms around George's neck and sucked on his tongue as he began to enjoy the feeling of the man moving inside him.

George shifted his angle a couple of time until his thrusts nudged Harry's prostate and Harry arched up against him with a cry of pleasure. "Oh fuck yes," Harry said breathily and George chuckled lightly against his skin.

"Feel good?"

"Amazing," Harry whispered as George began to thrust a little more quickly, Harry feeling the man's muscles tense and quiver around him. The man's hand reached down and closed around his cock and Harry hummed with pleasure as he was jerked off in time to George's thrusts. "Oh fuck, oh fuck," he babbled as the pleasure began to crescendo.

He was overwhelmed with the feeling of George inside him while his prick was palmed enthusiastically and all he could do was give himself over to it as the pleasure overtook him. His back bowed as he came with a cry and shudders from George moments later told him the man had found his own release.

"Wow," he breathed, looking up at the ceiling while his pulse thudded.

"You approve?" George asked breathlessly.

"Fuck yes. We're doing that again."

George laughed and said, "I'm at your command, sir," before a gentle kiss was pressed to his temple.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you enjoy it? Please leave a review and let me know.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

The summer had felt like a time held in stasis. Nothing had exactly been 'normal' and life had been held together by the knowledge, or perhaps the hope, that things would settle down into something more familiar. The autumn seemed to bring things a little back into reality and, as school was fully back in session, and people began to slide back into their old lives, life began to resemble what it had once been.

Harry and George established a routine as September turned into October, both busy with their own endeavours and trying to prove that there was a point to life after a war. Harry worked on his NEWT assignments three days a week, shadowed Poppy in the school infirmary for two and occasionally helped out in the shop where necessary.

Friday night outings with Neville and the others became a regular and welcome occurrence and afterwards Harry and George would fall into bed with one another. Harry was enjoying how fun and liberating sex could be, especially when explored with someone you trusted and liked. They were keeping things casual, never spending the night in one another's bed and never exchanging any touches outside the bedroom.

It suited Harry and it seemed to suit George too. He was new to things of this nature and, while George clearly knew what he was doing in the bedroom, Harry didn't know what kind of relationships he'd had in the past, if any. It was preferable not to put any labels on what they were doing for the time being.

"Now, you can see that the colour of the scan has turned to light amber, which indicates a sprain, not a break," Poppy said as she showed Harry how to diagnose breaks with a spell.

Harry nodded and watched as she instructed how to fix it. The poor first year had fallen foul of the moving staircases and had twisted her ankle in the process. The wide-eyed girl then had to contend with Harry Potter himself bearing witness to her injury and subsequent treatment.

He felt like a bit of a pillock hovering around the hospital wing but he was gaining valuable experience and he felt like he was being in some way useful to Poppy. He was helping with the hospital records and medicine inventory, although it was clear she was worried about the quality of the potions now Snape was no longer alive to brew them.

"There we go Miss Kennedy, all better. Rest up here for an hour or so then you can get back to your common room," Poppy said with a kindly pat to the girl's shoulder. "Harry, you can call it a day too if you like."

"Alright, see you next week. Keep an eye out for those staircases, Sadie, they're tricky things." He winked at her and the girl turned red, looking down at her hands in embarrassment.

He left the hospital wing and briefly toyed with the idea of visiting the Gryffindor tower but he couldn't cope with the inevitable stares from the first years coupled with everyone else's curiosity. He decided to call it a day and head back to the flat, hoping George would be there.

"Hey Potter! I know you weren't going to sneak off without saying hello."

"Hey Gin," Harry said with a smile as he turned around to see her coming down the corridor towards him.

"Been healing the sick and injured?" she asked, giving him a peck on the cheek.

"In a strictly observing capacity, sure. What are you up to?"

"Heading off for a little solo quidditch practice. I need to hone my technique. You dropping in on McGonagall before you go?" she asked, leaning against a nearby column.

"Um…no. I don't think so," Harry said, casting a look towards the corridor that led to the office staircase. "Maybe next time."

Ginny fixed him with a look that made him squirm and said, "Is this because they've just installed Snape's portrait?"

"They're teaching Legilimency now in 7th year?" he asked, wishing she wasn't so damn perceptive.

"I've known you since I was 10, I don't need to read your mind to know what you're thinking. You're afraid to see him? It's just a picture."

Harry sighed and brushed the hair out of his eyes. "I don't know if it'd say I was _afraid_ …I just can't handle that conversation right now."

"What do you think he'd say?"

"I don't know," Harry said quietly. "I just don't want to have to look at the face of another person who died because of me."

"Harry," Ginny said, reaching out and touching his cheek gently. "Snape died because of Voldemort, because of one man's obsession with a bloody purity that he himself couldn't claim. You're not responsible for his evil, or the consequences of that evil."

People had been telling him that for months, years even, ever since Cedric had been killed and the guilt had begun to choke him. His parents, Sirius, Lupin, Tonks, Fred; they'd all be alive if it weren't for him and he couldn't bring himself to face Snape, portrait or no, and have that confirmed.

"No one blames you," Ginny said softly, "but if you're not ready to accept that then nothing anyone says can make a difference. Just give yourself some time." She pressed a kiss to his cheek and said, "Say hello to that brother of mine. Tell him I'd appreciate a letter once in a while."

Harry walked to Hogsmeade then apparated back to the flat. The living room was empty so he moved over to George's bedroom and knocked on the door. "George? Are you home?" There wasn't any answer but, decided to check anyway, he opened the door and found George sitting cross-legged on the bed, staring at something in his hand.

"Hey, didn't you hear me calling?" Harry asked, moving into the room.

George continued to look at the object in his hand and, as he moved closer, Harry saw that it was the shrunken cube of Fred's belongings George had removed from his room. He sat down on the edge of George's bed and gently reached out to place his hand on George's shoulder.

"Are you sure you want to do this now?" he asked and George looked up at him.

"I can't keep putting it off," he said quietly, his face drawn. "Every time I come here it's like a fucking heartbeat pounding away under the bed. Besides," he said, looking back at the cube, "this all belonged to Fred, I don't want to shove it away and pretend he never existed."

"No one could ever pretend that. He was too amazing a person to be forgotten." He gave George's shoulder a squeeze and said, "I'll leave you to it."

"No Harry, stay," George said, grabbing his hand. "I don't want to do this on my own."

Harry settled beside him on the bed and George took a deep breath before he re-sized Fred's belongings. Together they separated them out into clothes, books, items pertaining to the business, photos and other personal knick-knacks. It was hard-going at first and George was silent and tearful for the initial half an hour.

Harry was organising the books into those to keep and those to donate when he heard a bark of laughter from the other end of the bed. he looked up and saw George looking down at a stack of parchment covered in scribbles.

"What have you got there?" Harry asked, scooting closer.

"Early drafts for some our products. We'd pass notes back and forth during lessons, putting ideas down, seeing what was feasible. It always descended into a slanging match," George said with a smile.

Harry looked over his shoulder and saw the familiar sets of handwriting, reading through the comments and suggestions. It was so easy to forget just what geniuses they were but, reading through their ideas and solutions, Harry was amazed at their brilliance.

" _No, goblin brain, a charm like that would increase the explosion exponentially. We want to frighten people, not launch them into space._ ," George had written.

" _Well, troll breath, we want to make an impact. There's no point doing it if it's not going to cause any more than a fairy sneeze. It has to have an impact! Where's your sense of showmanship_?" Fred had scribbled back.

" _You worry about the showy stuff, I'll worry about the technical details. I am the brains of this outfit after all_."

" _You wish. You're just jealous because I'm the better looking one_."

" _Time to get your eyes checked, you braindead halfwit_."

"When was this from?" Harry said, laughing at their nonsense.

"Mm, 6th year I think. This was when we were thinking about actually making money off all our lunacy."

"I can't believe he kept all these notes," Harry said, rifling through the large stack.

"Oh it wasn't sentiment," George said with a snort. "He reckoned when were captains of industry we could flog these. I swear, he should have been a Slytherin."

"He had ambition aplenty," Harry agreed, noticing that Fred's scrawled messages all contained references to how they could make things bigger and better while George's went into meticulous detail about how such things could be achieved.

"It wasn't just the money, although that was a driving force for him," George said, leaning back against the headboard. "He wanted the notoriety, he wanted to _be_ someone."

"And you just wanted to be the mad scientist locked away with your creations."

George smiled. "Something like that. It worked though – those two approaches complemented one another. Now I just feel…cut adrift."

Harry shifted to sit next to George, their shoulders and legs touching gently. "He can't be replaced," Harry said softly, "that's just the fact of the matter, but you carried him with you for 20 years and you always will. You know how his mind worked better than anyone and you can keep that with you moving forward."

George sighed and rested his head on Harry's shoulder. "I suppose you're right. I just wish it didn't ache so much."

Harry rested his head on top of George's and said, "I don't know that it ever will…that that ache ever goes away. Maybe it's not meant to. It's proof just how much you loved him, how much he was a part of you."

"Poetic little shit, aren't you?" George said, but Harry could hear the slight choke in his voice.

"I was thinking of having a side job as a muggle author. I could write trashy novels and make a bundle."

George cuddled in a little closer and said, "Did I ever tell you about the time he botched up a hair potion and all his hair fell out? He couldn't leave the flat for a week."

They spent the next hour swapping stories and memories of Fred, laughing their way through most of them and shedding a tear or two along the way. Harry loved listening to the stories he'd never heard before, stories from the boys' childhood, anecdotes about their shared mischief and the chaos they'd caused.

For Harry, it was important not to eulogise Fred, not to speak of him as some kind of martyr but to talk about him as though he were still there. Fred had been a whole person with good points and bad points, quirks and foibles, and to canonise him would be to do him a disservice.

"Blimey, I'm starving," said George as his stomach rumbled. "Come on, this lot can wait for now," he said, gesturing to Fred's strewn belongings, "let's get some dinner."

He paused at the door then turned around, looking at Harry with a gentle smile. "Thanks," he said softly.

"What for?"

"Talking about him. It helps more than you know."

He leant forward and pressed a gentle kiss to Harry's lips, taking him by surprise. It wasn't often anything physical happened between them when it wasn't in a sexual context and Harry was confused but rather pleasantly so.

George pulled back and rested his forehead against Harry's for a moment, then said, "Come on let's see what we can cobble together for dinner."

* * *

"No, those don't need to be ordered yet but…somewhere around here is the list I made of all the things we're running low on. Damn it, where is it? George, I've just tidied this office, I told you – "

"Has anyone ever told you you're hot when you get all flustered?" George said, grinning up at him.

"Don't change the subject. This place is a mess, I can't – "

"Seriously, your cheeks are all flushed and you keep sweeping your hair back. It's sexy." He got up from the desk and walked slowly over to Harry, his smile predatory.

"You're not going to distract me. I need to find that list and then – "

"Then you'll give me a good telling off? Make me sorry for messing up your tidy office?"

"Actually that's beginning to sound quite appealing."

"Should I get down on my knees and beg for forgiveness?"

George slid a hand between them and Harry closed his eyes as the man's palm pushed against his crotch. "Is that what you want, hm? Me on my knees, sucking you?"

Harry was about to answer that question when there was a knock at the office door. He pushed George away with a glare but the man just grinned and said jauntily, "Come in."

Their wide-eyed assistant popped her head around the door and held out a letter, saying, "This just arrived for you, Harry."

"Thanks, Beth."

He took it and she scampered away, never one to spend too much time with them. He read through the letter and looked up at George. "It's from Andromeda."

"Oh, how is she?" George asked, leaning against the desk.

"Um fine, I think. She…she wants me to look after Teddy tomorrow."

"That's ok isn't it?" George asked, tilting his head to the side.

"I…I don't know. It's just…I don't really have a lot of experience with kids and he's only six months old."

"You're his godfather."

"That doesn't exactly qualify me for anything."

"Well do you want me to help out?"

"You would?"

"Of course," George said with a smile. "Kids love me."

"That's because you have a similar mental age."

"Well if you're going to be rude I'll retract my previous offer of a midday blowjob."

Harry was edgy and nervous the next morning while he waited for Andromeda to arrive. George tried to distract him but he was worried about what the day ahead might bring and that agreeing to looking after his godson had been a colossal mistake.

He had no idea how to look after babies and, other than the maternal affections Molly had shown him, he had precious little experience of his own to draw on. What if Teddy cried non-stop and couldn't be calmed down? What if he couldn't figure out how to change a nappy? What if he dropped him?

"Wow, you didn't look this pig-sick before you faced that dirty great dragon in the Triwizard," George said with a grin as he folded up the morning paper.

"Oh shut up," Harry said, taking a sip of his coffee and shuddering when he realised he was cold.

"He's just a baby," George said, amused.

"Yeah well I'd rather take the dragon again."

"It's going to be fine, it's just one day and I'll be here the whole time."

"Promise?"

"I promise. We'll have a great time."

Harry was about to argue that he was fairly certain that was an impossibility when there was a knock at the door. His stomach flipped and George shot him a grin as he got up and answered it.

"Hi Andromeda. Come in," he welcomed her, stepping aside to let the woman in.

"Morning George, hello Harry," she said, George taking the bag from her shoulder as she balanced Teddy on her hip. It always jarred Harry just how much she looked like Bellatrix but she had a much softer face and her eyes were thankfully devoid of that mad glint her sister had always had.

"Hi Andromeda. Shall I um…should I…" he gestured to Teddy and Andromeda smiled at him.

"He won't bite," she assured him, and Harry reached out and took the little boy from her arms. Teddy clapped his chubby hands together and babbled happily as he kicked his legs back and forth.

"Hi Ted," Harry said as he smiled at the little boy. When faced with the bouncing child in his arms, the prospect of looking after him didn't seem so daunting. He was still nervous though and he was relieved that he'd have George by his side.

"Everything you need is in the bag," Andromeda said, gesturing to the large tote George still had hold of, "and I've written out his schedule along with what to do if he fusses and so on. He's a really easy baby, you shouldn't have too much trouble."

"We'll be fine," George said breezily. "Harry's had plenty of practice looking after me and I'm much more trouble than Ted."

"How true," Harry said wryly.

"Well I promise he's far easier than his mother ever was," Andromeda said with a sad smile, and Harry felt a sharp pang in the middle of his chest that neither Tonks nor Remus were there to see their son grow up. The injustice of it all sometimes choked him.

"He has her smile," George said, reaching out his hand to Teddy, the little boy wrapping his fingers around George's thumb.

"Yes he does," Andromeda agreed, watching as Teddy tried to wedge George's thumb in his mouth. "Well, I'll be back around 5, I'm sure you'll have a great time."

She pressed a kiss to Teddy's cheek and gave Harry's shoulder a gentle pat before she left the flat. George held out his arms and said, "Come on little fella, let's have a cuddle."

Harry handed him over and George settled Teddy on his hip as he began to blow raspberries at him. He really was a natural and there was something about seeing the two of them together that sent a flood of warmth through him.

While George settled with Teddy on the sofa, Harry went through the tote bag and re-sized the travel cot along with the other things Andromeda had packed. He read through the schedule and was relieved to see a lot of it involved sleeping, feeling a lot less uncertain about the whole thing now the little boy was in his home.

George played peek-a-boo with Teddy while Harry set the highchair up in the kitchen and decanted a jar of baby food into the bowl Andromeda had provided. Her accompanying note said that Teddy refused to eat from anything else and Harry wasn't about to test that.

George wrestled him into the highchair while Harry heated up the food. "Are you hungry, pumpkin?" Harry asked as he offered up a heaped teaspoon to him. He shook his head and Harry looked at George in dismay.

George laughed and said, "Here, let me. I promise he's not going to starve."

Harry handed him the food and George pulled up a chair in front of Teddy. After a few false starts, including the tried and tested broomstick method and pretending to eat it himself, Teddy eventually gave in and ate the mushy vegetable mess, getting a lot of it all over himself in the process.

"Mucky pup," Harry said as he cleaned him up. "Should we put him in his bouncer?" he asked George.

"So soon after eating? Probably best not to."

"Good point. What should we do then?"

"Bring him over to the sofa and we'll have a story."

George rifled through the books Andromeda had packed and showed each one to Teddy, asking for his approval while Harry laughed and called him an idiot. George acted out each page, which absolutely delighted Teddy, who laughed and giggled his way through the man's antics. It was lovely to see George so animated, so focused on entertaining another person again.

They put Teddy down for a mid-afternoon nap and Harry took the opportunity to catch up on a couple of assignments while George went through the shop's accounts. It was peaceful and Harry found himself enjoying the odd sense of domesticity it created.

Teddy was a little fussy when he woke, no doubt because of the confusion of waking up in strange place. It took a while to settle him, Harry and George each attempting various ways to do so, but Harry eventually managed it by holding the little boy close and rocking him gently from side to side.

"See?" said George, running his fingers gently through Harry's hair. "You're a natural."

Harry smiled as Teddy nestled into his shoulder, enjoying how it felt to be able to give comfort, to look after a little boy who was depending on him. He was so relieved to find that he could do this, that he hadn't failed miserably at looking after his godson.

They had just finished negotiating their way through Teddy's dinner when Andromeda arrived to pick him up. "He was good as gold," Harry said as he cleaned the little boy up while George packed all his things away.

"Oh I'm so glad," Andromeda said, picking her grandson up and greeting him with a kiss. "I knew you'd be just fine."

"George liked having someone around who was actually less mature than him," Harry said with a grin.

"Cheeky git," George said as he handed Andromeda the bag. "Ted's a lot easier to look after than Golden Boy here."

"I'm beginning to think that Teddy's the most mature one of the lot of you," Andromeda said with a laugh. "Well I really appreciate this, boys. Thank you for having him."

"Any time," George said sincerely. "We'd be happy to give you a break. He's always welcome."

Something in Harry's chest fluttered and he smiled at George gratefully. It meant a lot to him that George would open up his home to Teddy and help Harry find his feet forging a relationship with him.

They bade Andromeda and Teddy goodbye, with the promise of seeing them again soon, and Harry waited only half a second before he turned and pinned George to the wall, pressing himself against him as he kissed him hard. George responded eagerly, wrapping his arms around him as he met Harry's tongue with his own.

Harry melted against the man, feeling a rush of affection as well as attraction, reminded just how incredible it was to get to do this with someone you liked and trusted. "Thank you for today," Harry murmured against George's throat.

"My pleasure," George whispered back.

"Oh, it's about to be," Harry said with a wicked smile before he dragged George into the bedroom to show him the full force of his gratitude.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapter week again because it's so feckin hot I need something to distract myself with. God, I hate heatwaves. Hope you all enjoyed it, let me know what you thought.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

"And what would you recommend for an upset stomach?" Poppy asked as they sat in her office and she quizzed him.

"Wouldn't you just use a potion?"

"Actually no. It's standard practice to abstain from magic wherever possible so the patient doesn't build up immunity to it. It's the same approach muggles take to antibiotics. This is why you need to build up your knowledge of herbs so you'll know what to prescribe for minor ailments."

"What would you use then?"

"A tincture of sage, mint and groundsel. I'd speak to Neville about the right literature to read to give you a good understanding," Poppy suggested, and Harry made a mental note to do so when he saw the man later that night.

He was learning a lot under Poppy's casual tutelage; she was a good teacher, eager to share her wealth of knowledge and Harry felt that he was beginning his endeavours on a solid footing. He was enjoying his time spent in the hospital wing and was managing his studies well. They had taken on a new relevance now that he had a goal, that they would actually be useful in securing his future.

They continued with their discussion of medicinal herbs until the end of the school day when Harry bade her farewell. He made his way out of the hospital and found Ginny waiting for him at the top of the stairwell. She greeted him with a kiss and looped her arm through his, saying, "I thought I'd come and walk you down."

"I couldn't ask for a better escort. How are things going?"

"Not too bad. My schedule's pretty hectic and I have Mum on my case for concentrating more on quidditch than my studies but NEWTs aren't going to get me on the England team."

"Blimey Gin, you sound like Oliver," Harry said with a chuckle, noticing the faintest hint of a blush on Ginny's cheeks. He raised an eyebrow and said, "Something you want to tell me?"

"No," Ginny said, shaking her head. "We've just been exchanging a few letters, that's all. They're all about quidditch."

Harry snorted and said, "You amaze me. That's all Oliver's capable of talking about. Got a bit of a crush on him?" he asked teasingly.

"Piss off," she said, giving him a shove.

"You shouldn't avoid these things, Gin. Confess your feelings."

"Speaking of _avoiding_ things," she said, rounding on him with a fierce glint in her eye, "isn't it time you went to go and see Snape's portrait?"

"Oh Gin, let it go," Harry groaned, wishing it was possible to apparate away.

"It's only going to get worse the longer you put it off. Look, there's McGonagall, just ask her if you can go up for five minutes now."

"No, I don't think so."

"Professor McGonagall!" she called, elbowing him in the ribs when he tried to stop her. Minerva joined them and Ginny said, "Professor, Harry was just wondering if he could have five minutes to say hello to Professor Snape's portrait."

"I don't – " Harry tried.

"Of course, I'll take you up there now," Minerva said, and Ginny beamed at him smugly.

Knowing defeat when he was in its jaws, Harry sighed and let himself be led away down the corridor, glaring at Ginny over his shoulder as he went. He would have his revenge; he'd tell George all about her crush on Oliver and sit back while his brotherly teasing did its work.

"There you go," said Minerva as she gave the password to the gargoyle and the staircase appeared. "Maybe once you've spoken to him you'll come and have tea with me again," she said with an arched eyebrow before she glided off down the hall.

"Merlin spare me from all these bloody women," Harry grumbled as he tramped up the stairs. He was full of nerves as he shouldered open the door and he would have rather been anywhere else in the world at that moment.

He took a deep breath and turned to face the back wall, unsurprised to find Snape's black eyes on him. He swallowed hard and said, "Hello sir."

"Good evening, Mr Potter," the portrait replied, his tone surprisingly civil.

"How…um…how are you?" Harry asked, feeling like a prat. He'd never really understood how magical portraits worked, whether he was speaking to an actual aspect of the person or just a vague facsimile.

"I'm well, thank you. And you?"

"Oh you know, fine."

"I hear from Minerva that I have you to thank for my posthumous exoneration."

Harry winced at the word 'posthumous' and shifted awkwardly where he stood. "It was only right. You were a hero."

"No, Mr Potter. I wasn't."

"Yes you were," Harry argued. "What you did, it was – "

"It was penance," Snape said quietly, "penance for a lot of bad choices. What _you_ did was heroic. The two things aren't equitable."

Harry was so taken aback by the man's words he didn't know how to respond. Snape hadn't said one nice thing to him during his lifetime, let alone something so profound. "I wish…I wish I could have saved you," he said eventually, his voice shaking.

Snape smiled wryly and said, "Was saving all of the wizarding world not enough for you?"

"I just mean…you shouldn't have…your life shouldn't have ended that way. Not after everything you did, everything you sacrificed. God, I was so ungrateful and I never…I never had the chance to say thank you, to apologise. I never got the chance to make it right."

"It wasn't your responsibility to do so. The way things were between us…it was my fault. I hated you and I fostered that hatred. It didn't matter that my reasons were unfair and painfully childish, I still clung onto my hatred and took comfort in it. The fault isn't yours."

"But I – "

"You were a child. I was not," Snape said, a note of finality in his tone, and Harry knew better than to push it. "Now, tell me what you're doing with your second chance at life."

Harry spent half an hour talking with Snape's portrait, longer than he'd ever spoken to the man's live counterpart. Snape was polite and courteous, he even bordered on friendly once or twice, and although Harry knew it wasn't the man himself, their conversation fixed something in him he hadn't known had been broken.

He felt a weight lift from his shoulders, the guilt he'd been carrying around, coupled with the anger he had felt over Snape's role in Dumbledore's death felt alleviated and he felt cleaner for it. He arrived back at the flat grinning from ear to ear and ready for the night ahead.

"Just jumping in the shower then I'll be ready to go," he told George as he headed for the bathroom.

"Oh hey, hang on a sec," George said, grabbing hold of his arm. "Andromeda firecalled just before you got home."

"Is everything ok?"

"Yeah fine, just…neither of us had better overdo it with the booze tonight."

"Come again?"

"Ted's mother's had a fall, Andromeda's going to see her, get some shopping in, all that jazz. We're having Teddy overnight tomorrow."

Harry's eyes widened and he stuttered, "Overnight? Are you sure? I mean…I don't know if – "

"We'll be fine. We got gold stars all around last time, this will be a piece of cake."

Harry wished he had George's certainty but he wanted to be part of Teddy's life, he wanted Teddy to grow up with some kind of father figure and so had to take the bull by the horns and step up. He nodded at George with a smile and said, "You're right, piece of cake."

He showered and dressed, earning himself an appreciative wolf whistle from George when he appeared from the bedroom. They apparated to Hogsmeade and met up with the group in the pub, everyone seeming to be in a lively mood, which only buoyed Harry's spirits more.

He spoke with Neville about the literature on herbs that Poppy had mentioned and the man promised to send a few useful texts to him the following day. They were swiftly told to behave themselves by the others, who all asserted that shop talk had no place on a night out.

Food was ordered and Harry tucked in hungrily, taking all the peas off George's plate and swapping them for his beetroot. George ate beetroot like there might be a national shortage at any point and Harry teased him that that was the reason why he was a redhead. Personally, Harry thought it tasted like dirt and he was only too happy to offload his onto George's plate.

He listened as Dean and Seamus talked about the flat they had rented in muggle London and the raucous parties they planned on holding. They were both attending 8th year but flooing in daily rather than living in the castle, both of them still trying to find their feet after everything. It seemed everyone was doing their best to figure out their place in the world and it comforted Harry to think that they were all in the same boat.

As he spoke with Neville, or laughed at one of Seamus' appalling jokes, Harry found it impossible to stop his hands from wandering. George was sitting so close to him, one of his hands often settling in the small of Harry's back, Harry feeling intoxicated by the man's clean, soapy smell. He found his hand constantly moving to rest on George's leg, travelling up his inner thigh with his fingers.

He couldn't keep his hands off him and he was trying to be discreet about it but he was sure Neville's eyes had drifted to their touches once or twice. Every time he risked meeting George's eyes he saw his own growing desire reflected back at him and it was getting more difficult to stay in the pub when he all he wanted was to drag George back home and enact all his naughty thoughts.

He leant into George as much as he dared, ostensibly lolling against him in a friendly, tipsy manner, while letting his right hand roam over the man's denim-clad thigh. He felt George's breath close to his ear and he shivered in delight, wanting to feel the man's lips on his skin.

"I want you," George whispered as everyone else's conversation washed over them.

"Snap," Harry said with a grin, excitement racing through him, desperate to be collapsing into bed and feeling all that smooth, pale skin beneath his hands.

"I want you _now_ ," George clarified, and Harry felt the surreptitious hand on his back press more firmly against him.

In no mood to wait until the night died down, Harry cleared his throat and said to the group, "I think we might call it a night. We're looking after Teddy tomorrow and we don't want to feel grotty."

There were various groans of 'lightweights' and 'spoilsports' while Seamus and Dean chucked balled-up napkins at them. Only Neville looked at them with a raised eyebrow and calculating smile, but Harry had little attention to give it as George apparated them both home.

They were on one another in an instant, hands removing shirts, undoing buttons and zips, roaming all over the places they'd wanted to. Harry felt heat course through his body as his attraction to the other man became almost painful. He couldn't get enough of the feel of George's hands on him and he groaned with pleasure as the man's delicious lips teased a path across his throat.

"I want you to fuck me," George whispered, his voice raw.

"What?" Harry breathed, wide-eyed with surprise.

George pulled back with a wicked grin as he allowed his hand to travel over Harry's stomach as his long fingers teased the head of Harry's cock. "I want you inside me. I want to feel every inch of you fucking me senseless."

Harry's mouth went dry at the thought of this gorgeous man underneath him, that George wanted him that way. "Really?" was all he could manage.

"Hell yes," George said emphatically, then added a little more gently, "as long as you're comfortable with it."

Overwhelmed, yet again, with just how caring George could be, even in the throes of passion, Harry grabbed the man's face and kissed him hard as they made their way over to the bed. Harry had been more than happy with the way things had been between them but now George had offered this little switch Harry was giddy at the thought of it.

He covered George's body with kisses, relishing the man's taste. He loved the exquisite softness of George's pale skin coupled with the firm play of muscles beneath. He loved feeling him under his hands and he wanted to give George as much pleasure as he always gave him.

"Will you tell me if I do anything wrong?" he asked breathily as he kissed George's neck while his hands roamed.

"Harry, you're incapable of doing anything wrong," George said as he raked his fingers through Harry's hair. "You're…perfect."

Harry was taken aback by such a declaration and the softness with which it was uttered. He was spared answering by George pressing their lube into his hand while he spread his legs with a wicked smile. "Best get on with it," he said with a low voice, and Harry didn't need telling twice.

He coated his fingers and teased George's entrance gently before inserting a finger. He'd done this before several times when he'd blown George and he knew exactly what to do to get George's eyes to roll back and make his back arch. He kissed him deeply as he pushed another finger, followed by a third, inside the tight, responsive body.

"Oh fuck, Harry. Get inside me before I lose my mind," George moaned, and Harry's whole body flooded with desire.

He slicked himself up and settled between George's legs, hardly believing that he had this incredible person looking up at him the way George was. He positioned himself and pushed forward, immediately engulfed in the man's amazing body. Seeing that George seemed to be in no pain, he pushed all the way to the hilt and closed his eyes as he tried to steady himself.

It felt fantastic, almost too good, and he tried to even his breathing as George's body sheathed him so wonderfully. He felt a hand on his cheek and he opened his eyes to see George smiling up at him. "Ok there?" he asked.

Harry nodded and said, "Just trying not to embarrass myself."

George laughed and slid his hand to Harry's neck, pulling him gently down as he began to move his hips. "I've been thinking about this all night, I want you to fuck me hard and fast."

"Oh God," Harry groaned, his body moving of its own volition, needing release, needing more. He tried a few gentle thrusts, mindful of not hurting George, but the man was having none of it. He wrapped his legs around Harry's waist and held him tightly.

"Come on, gorgeous. I know you want to pound me into the middle of next week. Give me what you've got."

Harry lunged forward and kissed George so hard it made his lips tingle while he began to thrust as hard as the man had asked for. George moaned and writhed, his muscles clenching so tightly around Harry he thought he might pass out. It was a different thing entirely to being fucked but, with George, both were incredible.

"Oh fuck yes," George breathed with his head thrown back on the pillows. "Merlin Harry you feel amazing."

Harry didn't have any resources left to devote to trying to talk so he settled for moaning in agreement as he continued to thrust into George like there was no tomorrow. He wanted it to last forever but he was so close he knew he was only moments away from completion. He reached a hand down to George's erection and stroked him in time with his thrusts until George came with a deep moan, which was the sexiest thing Harry had heard in his life.

Harry thrust hard and fast a couple more times before he came too, overwhelmed by the strength of his orgasm. He collapsed onto George, out of breath and dazed, pleasure flooding through every inch of his body. He was tingling all over and he was dimly aware of George's hand rubbing gentle circles on his back.

He withdrew gently and cast a cleaning charm, smiling as he lay beside George. "Can we please do that again?" he asked as he reached out and brushed George's hair off his forehead.

"Sure, just give me five minutes," George said wryly and Harry laughed.

"That was amazing. I mean…it was, right?"

"Fucking incredible," George confirmed.

Harry rested his head on his fist and looked down at George, the man beautiful in the afterglow. He was suddenly struck with the desire to ask George if he could stay the night, not wanting to traipse back to his own room after such an incredible experience.

They never did that though, never stayed the whole night with one another, they always retreated to their own rooms after sex. It was part of the deal to keep things casual and Harry didn't want to overstep any bounds, didn't want to ask for more from George than he was willing to give.

"I um…I'll say goodnight then," he said, feeling a strange sense of regret.

"Goodnight," George said with a contented stretch. He leant up and pressed a chaste peck to Harry's lips and Harry couldn't help but wish he could snuggle up next to him.

* * *

Andromeda dropped Teddy off the next morning and Harry was happy to see the little boy, if a little apprehensive about having him overnight. Andromeda had brought all the necessary things with her and had left detailed instructions for what to do in any given situation.

George was confident and relaxed, which in turn helped Harry to feel more so. He wasn't sure he'd have been able to do it on his own and he felt so grateful that George was willing to help him and that he did so without ever making Harry feel like he was being pathetic.

George was so good with Teddy and the little boy adored him. George delighted in making him laugh while Harry favoured the quieter moments when Teddy snuggled against him, his little thumb wedged in his mouth. He'd had no affection at all in his childhood and he was determined that he would give Teddy as much love as he was capable of.

There was something so precious about holding a child close to you, to have their trust, to be responsible for them. He loved feeling Teddy's heartbeat against his chest, loved how he would nestle into his neck and make little snuffling noises against his skin.

The day passed without incident. Teddy ate lunch and dinner without too much drama and played contentedly with his toys and listened avidly while George performed a story for him. He napped in the afternoon and giggled his way through bath-time, especially when George charmed the bubbles into a dragon.

Harry had decided to put the travel cot in his room but both he and George were keeping their doors open so they could hear if Teddy fussed during the night. He went down fine, after a story or two, and slept soundly until the early hours.

He woke Harry up with his crying and Harry, though a little bleary, was up in an instant, picking the little boy up and holding him close. "What's all this then?" he asked. "Trouble sleeping in a strange place?"

Teddy sobbed but Harry wasn't overwhelmed by it. He checked his nappy then rocked him gently on his hip, trying to soothe him. "Everything ok?" George asked as he appeared in the doorway, rubbing his eyes.

"I was just going to see if he wanted a bottle," Harry said as Teddy continued to cry.

"Here, hand him over," George said, and Harry did so as they all moved into the kitchen.

Harry mixed and heated the formula while George sat at the kitchen table with Teddy on his knew, trying to soothe him. The wailing had subsided but Teddy was still crying and sniffling, obviously unwilling to settle. Harry tested the temperature of the milk and handed the bottle to George, who had little success getting Teddy to take it.

"Let me try," Harry said, taking a seat as George handed the little boy over. "Come on, sweetheart, just a little bit," he coaxed as he tilted him backwards in his arms. He held him close to his chest and rocked him gently while Teddy looked up at him with plaintive, red-rimmed eyes.

After rejecting the bottle several times, Teddy finally took it and Harry smiled up at George, who was watching him with sleepy affection. "There we go, my love," he cooed as Teddy guzzled away.

"You're such a natural with him," George said as he rested his chin on his fist.

"I thought I'd be useless but…I don't know…I feel a real connection with him." He shook his head and said with a touch of bitterness, "Figures, doesn't it?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well…having Teddy around, it's made me think about kids of my own. I mean not for a while, obviously; I'm enjoying being young and carefree, but one day. I think I'd really love to be a dad."

"So?" George asked, clearly confused.

"Well I'm _gay_ ," Harry said, certain that George couldn't be that dense.

"I'm sorry, Harry, I don't follow. I…oh," George said with a smile of dawning realisation. "You're thinking like a muggle, we're _wizards_ , remember. It's completely possible for gay witches and wizards to have children."

"It is?" Harry asked, baffled.

"Absolutely. There were loads of kids at Hogwarts with same-sex parents."

"Oh…I just figured they were adopted."

"Well…don't rule out adoption," George said sensibly. "It might be a route you decide to go down anyway but if you and your partner want biological children then it's entirely possible."

"Oh," said Harry softly, looking down at the little boy in his arms. He pictured himself , older, more settled and ready for fatherhood holding his own child as he held Teddy. Something warm settled in his chest as he realised that yet another layer had been added to the future he was building for himself and that his life had more potential than he'd hoped for.

"He's finished," George said as Teddy polished off the last of his milk. "Give him here."

Harry handed Teddy to George, who positioned him gently over his shoulder as he rubbed and patted the little boy's back. Harry watched with a smile, trying to ignore the mounting sense of confusion he felt.

While he could imagine being a father in the future, his mind also seemed intent on imagining sharing that future with George. When he saw himself with a baby it was George he could picture by his side and if that wasn't enough to send Harry's mind into a tailspin he didn't know what was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been rainy and almost cold here today, I'm in heaven! I hope you all enjoyed the chapter, please let me know!


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Autumn descended into winter and the cold, dark nights brought with them an air of melancholy. As Christmas drew nearer, everyone seemed much more sombre and the festive cheer of the holidays did little to alleviate it. The loss of loved ones was felt so much more keenly and families were preparing to spend their first Christmas with the gaping holes people's deaths had left.

George began to retreat into himself; so much so that Harry struggled to get a conversation out of him. He spent less time in the shop and more time in his room, despite Harry's best efforts to coax him out. He was starting to get the same look he'd had when Harry first moved in and the dark circles under his eyes were testament to the fact that he wasn't sleeping.

Harry didn't know what to do for the best. He had tried talking to George several times but had either been dismissed or was met with stony silence. He hadn't felt such distance from the man in a long time and it stung more than it had done previously because of what had transpired between them since.

Harry himself felt apprehensive about Christmas. He and George were going back to the Burrow for Christmas Eve and Christmas Day but Ron and Hermione were still in Australia and Bill and Fleur were in France with her family, not to mention the blank void that was Fred's absence. It was a step they all had to go through, however painful, and Harry knew he had to try and be there for George in whatever way he was needed.

"George, George come on," he called as he waited in the living room, his luggage and presents shrunken and neatly tucked in his pockets. "We were supposed to be there half an hour ago."

"They're not going anywhere, are they?" George asked sullenly as he emerged from the bedroom wearing tatty jeans and a moth-eaten jumper.

"Are you ready?" Harry asked, not willing to engage with George's snide behaviour.

"If I say no will you listen?"

"George, I'm not going to drag you with me. If you don't want to come then fine but I'm going. I owe it to your parents."

"Aren't you the good surrogate son? Hoping to take Fred's place?"

Harry said nothing. He was hurt but he knew better than to argue with George when he was in this state. His anger and his pain clouded everything to the point where he could feel nothing else. He lashed out at everyone in his path and didn't care about the damage he might inflict.

"Well come on, let's go and make merry. It is Christmas after all," George said with hideously false cheer. "Let's have a big family get-together and enjoy all our Weasley traditions because that's what we're supposed to do at Christmas, right? Let's all smile and laugh and mark the festive occasion, let's pretend that Fred never even existed. Let's pretend he isn't cold in the ground, shut away in a box and rotting slowly. Let's not – "

Harry grabbed hold of George and kissed him hard. He couldn't stand to listen to any more, couldn't stand to let George hurt himself like that. He wrapped his arms around him and held on tightly as George clung to him and kissed him back with fervour.

"Don't do this," Harry whispered, resting his forehead against George's. "Don't let it control you, please. I know this is hard for you, I can't imagine how hard, but don't lash out like this at the people who care about you."

George said nothing, his jaw clenched so tightly Harry was sure it must have hurt, but at least he wasn't spitting venom anymore. Harry cupped his cheek and stroked it gently with his thumb, saying, "I'm here, I'll help you get through this but I can't do that if you push me away."

"It's just…so _painful_ ," George ground out through gritted teeth.

"I know," Harry whispered, "and I wish I could take it away from you but all I can do is be here. Let me do that."

George's face was flushed and his breathing was laboured and shaky. Harry had no idea how the man was going to get through the next couple of days, all he knew was that he wanted to be by George's side, he wanted to help however he could.

"I can't tell you this isn't going to hurt like hell…but you _need_ to do it, for Fred's sake, for yours. As painful as it is, you're still here, you're still part of a family, a family that loves and needs you. I'm not asking you to plaster on a smile and pretend that everything's ok…I'm just…I'm asking you try."

"And if I can't?"" George asked in a strained whisper.

"Doesn't matter. I'll still be there for you."

He meant it. As difficult as it was, as torn up as George was, Harry needed to support him and he couldn't imagine leaving him to face things alone. "Shall we go?" he asked and George hesitated. "I'll make a deal with you – if it gets too much, at any point, we'll come back here and shut Christmas out entirely, ok?"

George nodded, his face pale, and Harry pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead before he apparated them away. George looked up at the Burrow, his brow furrowed and looking as though he might be sick at any moment.

Harry reached out and took his hand, saying, "I'm here, I'm not going anywhere. You can do this."

George gave his hand a squeeze before they both approached the house together. They walked in and Harry braced himself but Molly's greeting was surprisingly subdued. She kissed them both on the cheek as Ginny and Charlie appeared, exchanging hugs with them both.

It was so understated, so devoid of the usual chaos the Weasley home usually possessed that it hit Harry like a punch to the gut. For a moment it felt like he couldn't breathe and everything felt so wrong that Harry just wanted to undo it all.

"Arthur and Percy should be home soon," Molly said with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Why don't you go and unpack and then we can…have some drinks?"

Harry nodded with a smile and placed his hand on George's back and guided him to the staircase. They stopped when they reached the landing and George stared at his old bedroom in horror. "I can't…I can't go in there," he said, beginning to tremble.

"It's ok," Harry soothed. "You can stay with me in Ron's room." He nudged him gently forward, past the closed door and on to Ron's bedroom, settling him down on the bed as he removed his things from his pockets.

George stared blankly ahead, his face ashen. "Do you think it's the same?" he asked with a whisper.

"Do I think what's the same?" Harry asked gently.

"The room," George said, his eyes still staring, unblinking. "Do you think it's the same as the last time he…the last time we were in there?"

"I suppose so," Harry said, taking a seat beside him.

"How fucking stupid," George growled, "being scared of a room."

"Of course it isn't."

"I'm a grown man, I should – "

"It doesn't matter how old you are, George, grief is grief at any age and it hurts like hell. Why would you want to go in that room? Why would you want to open yourself up to all those memories?"

"You don't think I'm being a coward?"

"I don't think it's cowardly to protect yourself," Harry said, letting his hand rest gently at the base of George's neck. "One day you'll go back in that room but not today, not until you're ready."

He pulled George gently to his side and held him there, wishing he had better words of comfort to offer. Christmas always brought everything into focus more sharply, made happy things happier and painful things hurt all the more. For this year at least all they could hope was to survive it.

The evening was a subdued one. Arthur and Percy arrived home and Molly laid out a buffet in the living room. They all gathered around and talked quietly, a topic never lasting very long. George sat huddled at one end of the sofa, drinking beer after beer and eating nothing.

He didn't say a word and no one seemed brave enough to try and engage him in conversation. Harry wanted to put his arm around him, to put a hand on his knee but he wasn't George's boyfriend, he wasn't George's _anything_ , and it left him feeling useless and adrift.

Everyone seemed inclined to go to bed early and Harry set up the camp bed in Ron's room while everyone bustled about using the bathroom and shouting their goodnights to one another. George collapsed into bed without a word, turning to face the wall and pulling the duvet up over his head.

Harry slipped into the squeaky bed and lay staring up at the ceiling, certain that George was no more asleep than he was. Was this what life after victory as supposed to feel like? He'd had cheerier Christmases when they'd been in the middle of the damn war.

Things had begun to feel more hopeful; Harry had had so much to work towards, so much to focus on and his… _whatever it was_ with George had been fantastic. Now it felt foolish to have been so hopeful, he should have known that life after a war would always be two steps forward and one step back.

There were so many losses to contend with, so many families who would have empty spaces at the dinner table, waiting to welcome home loved ones who would never return. Harry wasn't sure that those wounds would ever heal but this first Christmas was always going to be something to be endured rather than enjoyed.

He slept fitfully and dreamt of Teddy having his first Christmas without either parent, dreamt of Fred's mischievous grin and his own parents smiling out at him from a photograph. He woke feeling dizzy and hot and it took him a few moments to realise where he was.

As he lay in the darkness, his skin pricking uncomfortably, he heard muffled sounds from George's bed. The man was crying, sobbing into his pillow with his back still turned to Harry. It took Harry half a minute to decide to slip out of his bed and over to George's. He might be hexed within an inch of his life, he might be knocked backwards on his arse, but there was no way he could leave the man to suffer alone.

He slid in under the covers and wrapped himself around George tightly. "It's ok," he whispered as he pressed his chest against the man's back. "I've got you."

George continued to cry but held onto the arm around his waist. Harry didn't have any words that would help, there _weren't_ any words for a situation like this, at least none that wouldn't sound trite or forced. He'd promised to be there for George, in any way he could, and the fact the man hadn't kicked him out was enough for Harry.

He held him close and let George sob his heart out. It hurt to think of him in so much pain, to be unable to ease it for him even a fraction, and Harry thought that perhaps they should have ignored Christmas altogether.

"I miss him so much," George wept, and Harry's heart broke for him.

"I know," he whispered. "I wish I could make this better for you, I wish I knew how to take the pain away."

"I can't escape it. Every time I look in the mirror he's there, staring back at me. It's like living with his ghost day after day."

"Couldn't…couldn't it be more like he's a guardian angel?" Harry ventured tentatively.

"What do you mean?" George asked as he sniffed.

"Well…fuck…I don't know how to say this without sounding like a prat. I just mean…he's still with you…more than most people's loved ones. You'll…get to see him grow old, you'll have him with you always and…I don't know…maybe that can be a comfort more than a burden."

There was silence in the dark room and Harry cursed himself for his tactless stupidity. He had no place telling George how to deal with his grief; what did he know about it anyway? "George, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have – "

"Don't apologise," George said, his voice hoarse. "You're right. I hadn't thought of it that way. I just…I can't think of anything but how much I miss him."

Harry cuddled in closer and held George tightly, wishing he had better words of comfort. George laced their fingers together and whispered, "Will you stay?"

"Of course I will," Harry replied. They'd never done this, never literally slept together, and Harry didn't know what, if anything, it meant.

They lay together, limbs entwined, for the rest of the night. Neither of them got much sleep and every now and then George's tears would come again but Harry held him close and let him sob until the tears subsided.

He'd expected it to be awkward when they woke up together but the next morning George just turned around in his arms and gave him a watery smile before kissing him and whispering, "Happy Christmas."

The day was as subdued as the previous evening had been but people were clearly trying. Even George attempted a smile as he exchanged hugs with his family before retreating back into himself.

Harry occupied himself helping Molly in the kitchen. He had little appetite but he was determined to make an effort for Molly's sake. Lunch was a quiet affair with minimal conversations attempted. Harry spoke with Ginny about how the quidditch team was getting on and answered Molly's questions about his own academic endeavours.

George said nothing and barely touched his food. Harry could see that Molly was holding herself back from saying anything, too afraid to upset George, despite her concern. The man looked so fragile and Harry wanted to put his arm around him, to hold him close as he'd done the night before and try to comfort him.

Eventually it all seemed to get too much and George stood up from the table without a word and walked out into the garden. Everyone looked at one another, at a loss, and Molly said quietly, "Should I go after him? Perhaps someone should – "

"Mum," Ginny said gently, "let Harry go."

Harry looked up at her in surprise and she smiled at him, saying, "Go on."

He didn't want to argue with her, nor did he want to delve too deeply into her reasoning, so he got up and followed George outside. He found the man sitting on the old stone wall, staring ahead as his breath misted around him.

He looked like a beautiful ghost, melancholy and haunting. Harry worried that one day the man's grief would overwhelm him so much it would swallow him whole and leave nothing more than a living void.

He sat down beside him and cast a warming charm over them both. It was a cold and grey day, not even the weather willing to give way to any kind of cheer. Harry had no words left to offer, no attempts at comfort he could give, so he waited until George looked up at him then leant over and gently brushed his lips against the man's.

He kept the contact light, unsure how the kiss would be received, but George's hand snaked up to the base of his neck as he kissed Harry harder. He was trying to lose himself, if only for a moment, and Harry was willing to let himself be used that way if it helped. He was giving George something to hold onto, something safe and familiar to cling to.

It wasn't a romantic kiss, or even a passionate one, there was nothing sexual about it, it was simply necessary, grounding. George's hand was hot against his skin and his lips were dry and rough as the man kissed him feverishly. Harry held onto him until George pulled back, his breathing ragged and his cheeks flushed.

"Shall I take you home?" Harry asked, smoothing a hand through the man's hair.

George nodded and Harry gave his hand a squeeze. "Stay here, I'll go and tell the others."

"Can't we just – "

"No," Harry said gently, "we can't leave without saying anything. Sit tight, I won't be long."

He walked back into the kitchen and tried not to flinch when all eyes turned to him. "I um…I'm going to take him home," he said quietly.

He was expecting objections but none came. Molly nodded and said, "I'm so glad he's not going back there alone. " She stood up and pulled him into a hug, saying, "You take care of each other, sweetheart."

He hugged her back and looked over her shoulder at Ginny, who was looking at him with a strange, almost approving smile. "I'll look after him, promise."

Molly pulled back and patted his cheek, saying, "Make sure he looks after you too, you both need it."

Harry had no idea what they both needed but all he knew was that he had to get George through the day one step at a time. "Um…our things – "

"I'll pack them up and owl them," Ginny said and Harry smiled his thanks.

He exchanged hugs with everyone and thanked Molly and Arthur for their hospitality. He wanted to give them all some kind of assurance, to tell them that George would be fine but he didn't know that for certain and he didn't want to lie to anyone.

He went back to George and apparated them both back to the flat, settling George on the sofa. He made tea and put a healthy amount of sugar in George's, handing it to him with a smile. They sat in silence for a while, sipping at their tea, George's eyes hollow.

"If you 'd rather not go to Andromeda's tomorrow I'm sure she'll understand."

George shook his head. "No…no I want to. It'll be easier…when it's not family. Being surrounded by them all…in that house…I know it sounds awful but it just makes it worse. Everything…everyone reminds me of him and it's like a knife to the heart every five minutes. I can…I can cope with going to Andromeda's…and I want to see Teddy," he added with a weak smile.

"Ok, but if you change your mind – "

"I'll let you know." He drained the last of his tea then said, "I'm exhausted, I'm going to turn in."

He got up and Harry had the urge to offer to go with him, to hold him the way he'd done the previous night but that had been a special case. Unless George asked, Harry wouldn't say anything, no matter how much he might want to.

"Harry," George said, stopping in the doorway to his room. "I…I wouldn't have made it through the last couple of days without you."

His cheeks flushed and he shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other, Harry taken aback by the softly-spoken declaration. "I um…" George continued, looking at the floor, "I hope you know how much I…how important you are to me."

He didn't wait for Harry to answer, just slipped inside the bedroom and closed the door behind him. Harry sighed into the empty room and rubbed his face tiredly, more confused than ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed the chapter, please leave a comment and let me know.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Andromeda's home was warm and welcoming and Harry felt immediately at his ease the moment he stepped over the threshold. He and George were spending Boxing Day there and George was far more at ease than he had been at the Burrow. He busied himself entertaining Teddy and the little boy was delighted to see him.

Andromeda was a laidback and thoroughly competent host and Harry enjoyed the calm atmosphere of her home. There was an unmistakable aura of sadness around her and Harry could only imagine how hard it must have been having her first Christmas without her husband and daughter. She had focused all her attention on Teddy and channelled her energies into giving him the most magical first Christmas possible.

He wouldn't remember it, of course, but that wasn't the point. He wouldn't remember the Christmas presents Harry and George had bought him either but they'd still put time and effort into choosing something perfect for him. Harry was of the opinion that every child's Christmas should be something special, especially as his own had been so very miserable.

He was looking forward to creating traditions with Teddy; taking him to see Father Christmas, gifting him a Christmas Eve box full of little treasures, taking him to see a silly pantomime at the local theatre. He wanted to give Teddy everything he'd never had and he was thankful he had the opportunity to be part of his life.

George seemed to be soothed by the little boy's presence and it was the first time Harry had seen the man give a genuine smile in a good couple of weeks. He sat on the floor with Teddy's toys spread out and kept him mesmerised as he charmed them all for Teddy's entertainment.

"He's so good with him," Andromeda said as Harry gave her a hand in the kitchen.

"I'm just happy to see him smiling," Harry said as he topped up his wine glass at Andromeda's insistence. "The last few days have been really tough for him."

"I can imagine," Andromeda said softly.

"Sorry, I didn't mean – "

"Don't apologise. We're all struggling. It just…takes time I suppose. Everything's too raw right now."

Harry nodded. "I keep trying to help…but I worry I'm just making it worse."

"You seem to be doing just fine," Andromeda said with a kind smile. "You're very good together."

Harry didn't really know what to say to the assumption that they were a couple. What _could_ he say? _Oh no, we're not actually together, we just shag each other senseless on occasion._ That would go down well. He settled for a non-committal smile and sipped at his wine.

Truth be told, he didn't want to think too closely about what it was he and George had. It was supposed to just be a bit of casual sex, a safe and fun introduction to the world of carnal pleasures with no strings attached. Expect there were strings.

Casual fuck-buddies didn't spend hours talking about all matters under the sun. They didn't offer comfort and support through the difficult times or enjoy the strange kind of domesticity they had when things were going well. It was all too complicated and if Harry thought about it for too long it made his head spin.

"Did you have a nice day yesterday?" Harry asked, needing a change of topic.

"Mm. I had Ted's mother and sister over. It was all very…well…quieter than my Christmases have been in the past."

"I don't suppose…You haven't heard anything from Narcissa…or Draco?"

"No," Andromeda replied, looking surprised by the question.

"Sorry, I know it's daft to ask, it's just…Lucius is in prison but no one's seen or heard anything from Narcissa or Draco. I just…can't help but wonder what's happened to them. I _do_ owe Narcissa my life…even if she did help me for selfish reasons."

"I think I'd be the last person she'd contact, under any circumstances. She'll have left the country, gone to lick her wounds somewhere using some hidden resources Lucius squirrelled away years ago. My sister always lands on her feet, I wouldn't spend too much energy worrying about her."

Sensing that the Malfoys weren't a welcome subject in Andromeda's home, Harry nodded and offered to strain the carrots while Andromeda plated up their lunch. George set Teddy's highchair up at the dining table and they all settled down to a wonderful meal.

Andromeda was an excellent cook and Harry enjoyed every mouthful of his delicious dinner. George appointed himself Teddy's feeder and smiled as he coaxed the little boy into eating all his greens. It was nice to see him completely preoccupied with Teddy and Teddy's obvious adoration of George served as a kind of balm for the pain of the last few days.

Afterwards they all took Teddy out for a stroll in his pushchair, all bundled up against the cold. They walked through the pretty local park, along the river, passing several other families who were out with children, all trying out their new presents. It was actually quite nice to be among muggles who had no idea what had happened over the past year and who didn't have the empty, haunted look that so many in the wizarding world did.

They returned back to Andromeda's refreshed and ready for coffee around the fireplace. "No, I'll put him down," George told Andromeda as she said it was time for Teddy's nap. "It's no trouble. Come on, little man, let's go for a snooze."

He disappeared upstairs, cooing and babbling to Teddy as he went. Harry smiled at Andromeda and said, "I was worried about him coming here today but it's done him the world of good."

"Children sometimes have a way of healing wounds."

Harry smiled as he picked a chocolate from the open box in front of him while Andromeda set about making the coffee. "George adores him," he said around a mouthful of chocolate-covered caramel. "He loves having him around. So do I of course. I really want to make sure we have a good relationship."

"Well," Andromeda said as she filled the cafetiere, "I was wondering if you'd like to put something a bit more formal in place."

"How do you mean?" Harry asked, popping another chocolate in his mouth.

"I thought perhaps you might like to have Teddy on a regular basis. I know how much he means to you and…honestly…I could use the help."

"What were you thinking?" Harry asked, feeling a little trepidatious. He wanted to be in Teddy's life but he wasn't sure how much responsibility he was ready to assume.

"Maybe once a month? I…I don't want to burden you. You're busy with your studies and you're so young…I don't want to overwhelm you or assume – "

"Andromeda, breathe," Harry said with a laugh as the woman started to become flustered. "I'd really like to have Teddy more regularly, I really wanted to be part of his life. Let me talk it over with George, see what he says, then we can look at sorting something out."

Of course, Harry knew all too well what George would say and when he broached the subject with him when they were back home that evening he was met with enthusiasm. "Of course we can have him on a regular basis, that would be wonderful," George said with such a genuine smile Harry didn't need to question his sincerity.

"It's not too much to ask? I mean, this is your home, I don't want to – "

"Harry," George said gently, "it's your home too. Don't forget that."

Touched, Harry smiled at him and said, "Do you think I'm up to it? Looking after him properly."

George reached out and brushed the hair from his forehead with one long finger. "Of course you are. I'll be here to help if you find it gets too much."

"Then I can't fail," Harry said, trying to sound deliberately cheesy but fearing his words rang more sincerely than he'd have wished. He cleared his throat and said, "So, you're sure? I can give Andromeda the go-ahead?"

George gave him a clap on the shoulder and said, "Thumbs up from me. Operation co-parent is a go."

Harry's stomach flipped so hard he thought he might throw up. He could just about get his head around looking after Teddy and doing so with George but referring to themselves as parents was enough to send Harry into conniptions. Thankfully George had already wandered off to the bathroom, announcing his intention to take a shower.

Harry sighed and shook his head. He wasn't sure he could stand his life getting any more complicated and it really came to something when fighting Voldemort seemed like the simpler option.

* * *

"I'm just saying that if you don't want to go I'm more than happy to stay here tonight."

"It's New Year's Eve."

"So? It's such a blah thing, just an excuse to get wasted."

"Well that sounds like reason enough to me," George said, slipping into the leather jacket that never failed to set Harry's pulse racing.

"It's just…the last few days have been pretty rough on you and I don't know if a party is – "

"Harry," George said, placing his hands on Harry's shoulders, "I appreciate the concern, I really do, but I can't be inside my own head anymore. I need a distraction, a little mindless fun to just be 20 years old. The last couple of weeks have really sucked, I'm not going to lie, but I need to have some fun before I forget how to."

"Fine," Harry said, defeated, although he wasn't entirely convinced that a party at Seamus and Dean's was actually what George needed.

"Maybe," George said, slipping a finger under Harry's chin, "you could even pretend to be a young, carefree 18 year old tonight. Maybe you could pretend to have fun with a group of your friends and not worry about saving the world."

Harry pulled a face and said, "You're hilarious."

"I try. Come on, Boy Wonder, let's go and get rat-arsed."

He wrapped an arm around Harry's shoulders and apparated them both to a quiet road around the corner from the boy's flat. The area they lived in was a bit of a dump but neither was wealthy and they were just happy to have a little independence. Harry and George were welcomed amid much fanfare, the flat already heaving with people.

"What are you doing here?" George asked his sister as they greeted her and Luna.

"I was invited," Ginny said with an amused smile.

"And Mum let you? You haven't just snuck out?"

"I'm at a party with a bunch of people I went to school with, not huffing crack on a street corner."

Harry snorted and said, "Nice imagery, Gin." His eyes swept the room and he saw Oliver and Lee speaking with Neville. "Ah, so _that's_ why you're here," he teased.

"Oh don't tell me you have a thing for Oliver," George groaned.

"It's purely a professional thing, right Gin? You're just after all that insider quidditch knowledge."

"Bite me," Ginny said with a smirk, grabbing her drink and gliding across the room to join Oliver and the others. Oliver welcomed her with a bright and enthusiastic smile and Harry wondered if perhaps he was interested in more than just quidditch.

"Lads! Let's get you a drink!" Seamus said with a grin as he shoved a beer into their hands. "What do you think of the place?"

"It's a dump," George said bluntly, and Seamus laughed.

"That it is, but it's ours."

Tiny as the flat was, it was packed with people. Seamus and Dean had invited a few of their muggle neighbours so magic was being kept under wraps, which Harry was perfectly fine with. He was worried about George, and still uncertain if a loud, noisy party was the best thing for him, but the man didn't take well to being coddled and Harry wasn't sure it was his place anyway.

He seemed well enough and Harry watched as he laughed and smiled as he joined in conversations. Harry was sure part of it was a front but George seemed to be genuinely enjoying himself and so Harry was content to let him. It was a nice crowd of people and Harry migrated from one conversation to another, enjoying the atmosphere.

He found his way back to George several times as the night went on, never wanting to be away from him for too long. He was worried, yes, but he also enjoyed George's company and preferred it to anyone else's. He wanted to be near him and he tried to be surreptitious about it as he tried to find ways to touch him.

It had been a while since they'd done anything intimate; George had been too messed up over Christmas and Harry hadn't wanted to push him. He missed him though, missed touching and being touched, and it was nice to feel George's hand on his back, to touch the man's arm as they spoke.

No one seemed to notice apart from Neville, who glanced at their wandering hands several times throughout the night. Harry knew he would have to have a conversation with him at some point but he wasn't sure what explanation he could offer the man when he had none for himself.

"So how do you know Seamus and Dean?"

Harry had been cornered by one of the muggles invited to the party and was having a relatively pleasant conversation with him. Ben lived in the flat below and was in his second year at UCL studying Psychology.

"We all went to school together."

"Oh, round here?"

"No, up in Scotland. It was a boarding school."

"Boarding school? You guys don't seem the type. I don't really get old Etonian vibes from you."

Harry laughed and said, "It wasn't really like that. It was sort of a school…for um…the gifted."

"Gifted? I'm sitting here talking to Einstein mark 2?"

"No, God no. It's um…it's a hard place to explain if you didn't go there. What about you? Are you from around here?"

"No, I'm a West Country lad, just over here for uni. Bit of a culture shock moving from a small town in Devon to this urban sprawl. Are you at uni here?"

"No, I decided to take a year out and then I'm going to train to be a…a doctor."

"Oh nice. I can just picture you in a starched, white coat with a stethoscope."

"Sounds like a Halloween outfit," Harry said with a grin.

"I think you'd manage to pull it off, but then I can't imagine you'd look bad in anything."

Harry blushed as he realised Ben was flirting with him. "Well," he said, his cheeks hot, "right back at you."

He didn't have a clue what he was doing and he was ruffled at the thought of somebody finding him attractive. He was also painfully aware, in the back of his mind, that whatever he had with George took precedence over a casual flirtation.

"So," said Ben with a smile, "can I give you my phone number?"

"Oh…um…I'm not, I mean I don't – "

"It's just a phone number. I think you're really cute and I'd like to get to know you better." He looked around and took a notepad and pen off a nearby shelf and scribbled his number down before tearing out the page and handing it to Harry. "You fancy getting to know me then give me a call. If you don't then no harm."

"I um…"

"Just think it over," Ben said before giving him a pat on the shoulder and disappearing back into the living room.

Harry looked down at the paper in his hands, wondering if it was always this complicated. "Sounded like a good offer to me," came a voice, and Harry turned to see George standing in the kitchen doorway.

"I'm not interested," Harry said, stuffing a note in his pocket.

"Why? He was cute."

"I'm not interested," Harry repeated with more force.

George shrugged and said, "Your call."

Harry couldn't tell if George really didn't care if he saw other people or if he was just pretending to be nonchalant but it irked him regardless. He knew it would sting if George took another guy's number but things were supposed to be casual and he didn't know if he had any right to feel that way.

"It's nearly midnight, the others are watching the countdown on the tele. Coming?"

Harry nodded and they joined everyone in the living room, all gathered around the TV as Jools Holland instructed them all to get ready as a large clock appeared behind him. They all joined in and released their party poppers as Big Ben struck midnight, wishing each other a happy new year.

Harry exchanged hugs with his friends and laughed as Ginny and Luna double-teamed him and put lipstick-covered kisses all over his cheeks. He hugged George but what he really wanted was to ring in the new year with a kiss as he'd seen so many couples do before. Who would have imagined that a carefree, no strings arrangement would be so unsatisfying?

They stayed for another hour or so and Harry did his best to avoid Ben and instead cuddled up with Ginny in a beanbag chair as they talked about quidditch. Ginny had been right all those months ago; they were like brother and sister and Harry was enjoying the closeness they were forging when it was unburdened by romantic expectation.

He and George left when things began to wind down and Harry gave Ben an embarrassed smile as they left the flat. They walked around the corner and apparated home, Harry feeling tired but twitchy in his skin. There had been so much physical contact with George at the beginning of the night and it had wound Harry up to the point where he was desperate to get George alone.

Now he was just frustrated and confused, annoyed by George's attitude to another man chatting him up. He wondered if George had offers from other men, if he'd taken them up on any since their little arrangement had started.

"Well, happy new year," Harry said with a forced smile. "Just one more to go and we'll be in a new millennium."

"Won't that be something?"

"I guess we should turn in, it's late."

"It isn't _that_ late," George said with a cajoling smile and Harry's conflicted mind didn't know what to do. He wanted George, he _always_ wanted George, but he felt like they were stuck in a strange limbo.

George rounded the sofa and slid his hands over Harry's hips to rest in the small of his back. "Fancy ringing in the new year in style?"

Harry's body obviously saw things more clearly than his mind did and it began reacting immediately to George's hands on him. It had been a while since he'd enjoyed the man's touches and, as long fingers snaked beneath his shirt, his body desperately wanted to feel them again.

He pulled himself closer and leant up to meet George's lips, moaning softly at the contact. He'd missed George's kisses, missed the way they managed to make his head spin, the way they chased all other thoughts away.

"Mm, I love the way you taste," George murmured as he licked and sucked his way over Harry's neck while his fingers splayed through Harry's hair. "I want to be buried inside you."

"Fine by me, but I'm driving," Harry said, pushing George backwards until his legs hit the sofa and he collapsed down onto it.

"Hell yes. I love it when you take control," George said, grinning up at him.

Harry spelled both their clothes off then sank to his knees and engulfed George's hard prick in his mouth. George hummed with pleasure and gripped Harry's hair as he thrust upwards. Harry took him to the back of his throat, his pace quick and demanding. He wanted to block out any intrusive thoughts about his and George's relationship, or whatever it was, and just focus on the physical.

He sucked and licked, knowing exactly what George liked, knowing how to take pleasure in the action himself. He loved having the man this way, loved being the one to elicit those gorgeous moans and sighs. He slicked George up until the man was writhing beneath him.

He performed a preparation spell on himself then moved to straddle George, positioning the man's hardness at his entrance. He met George's eyes as he slowly lowered himself, taking the man inside him inch by inch until he was fully sheathed.

"Oh fuck yes," George groaned as he gripped Harry's hips as Harry began to move. "You going to ride me, gorgeous?" George asked with a wicked smile. "Take me inside you over and over until you make my legs buckle?"

"That what you want?" Harry said breathlessly as he revelled in the feeling of George buried deep inside him. He braced himself on the man's shoulders and started rocking his hips in a solid rhythm.

"That's what I _always_ want, Harry," George said, and his tone was so sincere that it jarred Harry.

He continued to move, his pace fast and hard, trying to block out anything but the waves of pleasure he was feeling. He shut off his thoughts and gave over full control to his body, letting it chase its needs as he rode George with purpose.

"You feel so good," George moaned, his fingers digging into Harry's skin as he thrust upwards in time with Harry's movements. Harry closed his eyes as he impaled himself over and over again, focusing on the feeling of every inch of George inside him, on how perfect it felt.

There were times when he needed things to be slow and sensual, to take his time and let the pleasure build gradually but at that moment he needed it hot and fast. His breathing was heavy as he moved up and down, rolling his hips each time and feeling the delicious spread of heat as he hit his prostate again and again.

He felt George's hand wrap around his prick and he opened his eyes to see the man's gorgeously hazy eyes looking up at him. "That's it, love," George murmured. "Take me hard and fast. God, you look so perfect, so fucking perfect."

George increased the pressure on his cock and Harry came with a strangled gasp, spurting his release over George's stomach. He maintained his rhythm through the fuzziness of his pleasure and rode George until the man's head fell back against the sofa and he let out a deep moan as he came. Breathless and boneless, Harry looked at the man's face, his expression so beautiful that Harry wanted to capture it forever.

"Well," George said as he recovered himself, "happy new year indeed."

Harry smiled and leant forward to kiss him, pushing all his conflicting thoughts to the back of his mind. This was supposed to be fun, something to distract them both, something that wasn't supposed to be too heavy. Perhaps he should just stop thinking and let his body make his choices from now it. It seemed the most logical choice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed the chapter, please leave a review and let me know.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Once Christmas was behind them, George's mood began to improve. Getting back into their old routine helped and allowed George to focus on things that kept his mind busy. They resumed their Friday night meet-ups with their friends but it was decided that they would spend more time at each other's houses in order to stop wasting money week after week when precious few of them could afford it.

Harry felt oddly apprehensive about hosting his friends. It was confusing because he felt as though he and George would be welcoming people to their home as a couple, which was ridiculous as Seamus and Dean had no such issues. Of course, they weren't shagging each other senseless at every opportunity, thus muddying the waters of every other aspect of their lives.

Harry supposed it would have been a lot less complicated if they weren't living together. If they just saw each other now and again for a hook-up then there would be very little drama but they were with each other almost constantly. They cooked meals together and fell asleep on the sofa in front of daft TV programmes. They took care of Teddy together and spoke long into the night about Harry's studies and George's plans for the business.

They were more than friends, _far more_ than friends, and yet they weren't a couple so Harry had no idea what they were supposed to be. He was trying not to devote too much thought to it but it seemed his brain was determined to focus on it at every given opportunity.

"I don't know why we're having all these Neanderthals over when we have Teddy tomorrow," Harry grumbled as he made sure the fridge was stocked with beer.

"You're such a gracious host," George said with a laugh as he tidied up the living room.

"Well I just don't want to be a hungover mess with my godson, or a knackered one for that matter. You know how Dean and Seamus like to carry on into the small hours."

"They're coming over for a few drinks, not a bloody rave."

"Yeah well…we'll see."

He was in a mood and he knew he was but he'd been preoccupied with this hosting lark all day and he was worried about how to behave. He was repeating the fact that he and George weren't a couple in his head like a mantra but he still felt uneasy about opening up their home and thus potentially opening themselves up to scrutiny.

The doorbell rang and Harry tried to wipe the scowl from his face as George opened the door and let everyone in. These were his friends, he reminded himself, and he enjoyed spending time with them. His other issues needed to be pushed aside for the time being.

"Blimey George, this place is great! Business is obviously booming," Seamus said as Harry sorted them all out with drinks.

"It's certainly a step-up from your flea pit," George said with a grin and Seamus gave him a thump.

The guests settled on the sofa and armchairs while Harry and George plonked themselves on cushions on the floor. Seamus was great at commanding proceedings and Harry was thankful that he could sit back and let the man take the reins. He entertained them all with stories of the goings-on at Hogwarts as well as the constant drama that seemed to go on in their block of flats.

To Harry's relief, Ben wasn't mentioned and he hoped that Seamus didn't know about their brief flirtation at New Year. Harry and George hadn't mentioned it since and Harry had thrown the man's number away the next day. He was still slightly peeved that George hadn't seemed at all bothered by the possibility of him pursuing something with another man.

"So Oliver, spill," said Seamus as Harry wandered over to the kitchen to sort out an array of snacks.

"Spill what?" Oliver asked as George made sure everyone had a drink.

"Spill what, he says. We all saw you at New Year; you and Gin were getting very close."

"We were talking about quidditch," Oliver said but blushed nevertheless.

"Guys, can we not talk about my sister?" George said with a groan.

"Oh come on, we're not like that," Seamus protested and it was true, they weren't. As much as they liked to chase women, they were never lewd or inappropriate and Harry had never heard them speak disrespectfully about any of the fairer sex. "Gin's a hell of a catch, Ol. I mean, seriously, major kudos if she's interested in you."

"We really were just talking about quidditch," Oliver said, more to George than to anyone.

George smiled and said, "I'm her brother, not her keeper. Who she chooses to date is none of my business, she has sense enough to make good choices," he added pointedly.

Oliver scratched the bridge of his nose and said, "I um…I do really enjoy her company. We have a lot in common."

"Like you both fancy the pants off one another?" Dean asked, grinning.

Oliver was so red it looked like his head might explode. "She's very attractive," he stuttered, and Harry couldn't help but feel sorry for him. He wasn't the most socially adept of people and had spent all his time honing his quidditch skills rather than his social ones.

"So are you going to ask her out?" Seamus asked.

"Maybe…when she's finished school. I'll see."

"Knowing my sister, she'll probably ask you out first."

Oliver looked a little taken aback by the notion but Harry was sure he'd reconcile himself to it soon enough. They'd make a good couple and would no doubt take the quidditch world by storm.

"Oh, speaking of attractive, I saw Dominic Moore the other day," Lee said, directing his comment to George.

Harry watched as George raised his eyebrows with casual interest and said, "Oh yeah? How is he?"

"Oh don't play coy. You two had a thing, didn't you?"

"A very brief thing. We went out a couple of times."

Harry tried to stomp down the feeling of jealousy that bubbled inside him and pretended he was engrossed with emptying packets of crisps and nuts into bowls.

"Well I got the impression he'd be very keen to see you again. He kept asking how you were and talking about what a good time you had on your dates."

"We only went on two," George said, his manner still very laidback. Harry found himself wishing a fiery death on Dominic bloody Moore, whoever the hell he was.

"I think he'd be up for a few more. What do you think? You interested?"

Harry found himself holding his breath as he waited for George's response, not daring to look up at the man. If George expressed an interest in rekindling things with this bloke Harry didn't know if he could take it.

"I don't think so," George said, and Harry went light-headed.

"Oh shame, how come?"

"I'm happy as I am for now."

Over in the corner, Harry watched as Neville rolled his eyes with an expression of frustration as though he would like to knock both their heads together. Harry couldn't say he blamed him. He looked up and met George's eyes, his stomach flipping as he did so. he had no idea what he was seeing in the man's expression, nor did he know what his own was conveying, but he was so confused he rather fancied slipping into a coma, just for the rest.

Topics thankfully migrated away from everyone's love lives and Harry tried to relax as they all spoke about fairly neutral things. Lee and Seamus decided to set up a poker game at the dining table and George, Dean and Oliver joined in too. Harry felt sorry for them; George was a devil at the game and would wipe the floor with them all. Luckily they were only playing for matchsticks.

"Guys, one more game then I'm kicking you out. We have Teddy tomorrow and I don't want to be shattered," Harry told them.

"You remind me of Snape when you get all authoritative," Seamus said, and Harry gave him a two-fingered salute before disappearing back out onto the little balcony where Neville was sitting at the iron table and chairs George had bought the previous summer.

"You'll have a hard job shifting them," Neville said as Harry handed him another beer, sitting down next to him.

"Lee's trying to get one up on George but he'll never do it I've never seen him lose a hand at poker."

"Never understood the game myself."

"Me neither. George keeps trying to teach me but I can't catch on."

Harry swigged his beer and stretched his legs, looking down at the happy bustle in the streets below. It was a bitterly cold night but people were still out and enjoying themselves, taking advantage of a post-war world.

"What the bloody hell is going on with you two?" Neville asked and Harry's beer went up his nose.

Harry coughed and spluttered as his eyes watered. "What…what do you mean?" he asked as he dabbed his face with his sleeve.

"Oh don't play innocent. It's painfully obvious you're sleeping together but is that all it is?"

Harry opened his mouth then promptly closed it again, having no idea how he should respond. If he couldn't give _himself_ an answer how the bloody hell was he supposed to give Neville one?"

"Harry," Neville said gently, "what the hell are you playing at?"

Harry sighed and slumped back in his chair. "Damned if I know," he said tiredly. "It was just meant to be a fun, Nev. George offered to help me figure things out and I thought it was better to do that with someone I trusted rather than someone who'd run to the paper and sell an exclusive."

"I can understand that but does it not make things a bit complicated?"

"It makes them very fucking complicated," Harry groaned, letting his head fall into his hands. "I'm so bloody confused."

"Well…what do you want? Do you want more than just sex?"

Harry looked up at Neville through his fingers and said quietly, "I don't know. I don't know what I want."

"Well what does he want?"

"No idea…and I'm too much of a coward to ask."

"Oh Harry," Neville said, reaching out and placing a hand on his shoulder, "what the hell am I going to do with you?"

"Fuck if I know," Harry said despondently.

"Well, if I were you, I'd try and figure it out before things start to get messy."

Neville's words rang in his head for the rest of the night. The man was right; he needed to decide what he wanted before things became more confusing or before he did irreparable damage to his relationship with George and lost the man's friendship for good.

He slept badly, waking up sporadically with his mind churning things over. He was glad that they were having Teddy, he was in desperate need of a distraction, of something else to occupy his mind with.

He was getting more and more confident looking after the little boy and he enjoyed the time he got to spend with him. He felt he was doing right by Remus and Tonks by being a proper godfather to their son and he wanted to be a stable and positive influence in Teddy's life.

This visit wasn't as smooth as previous ones had been. Teddy was teething and was thoroughly miserable about it. His little face was red and he was chomping on his teething ring like there was no tomorrow, wailing inconsolably between bouts of blood-curdling screams.

They fire-called Molly for a few tips and found that chilling his teething ring and using a dab of clove oil eased him a little. They took turns trying to soothe and distract him and Harry was so grateful to have George with him. He would have been thoroughly overwhelmed if he'd had to try and deal with the perpetually sobbing child on his own.

"Oh my God, is he actually asleep?" Harry whispered as he emerged from the bathroom after a quick shower to find Teddy sleeping in his pushchair as George rocked it slowly with his foot.

"I think he was exhausted," George replied, looking fairly shattered himself.

"Poor little guy, he's been so miserable," Harry said as he sat down next to George. "I hate seeing him so distressed."

"It'll pass. You'd be miserable if you had constant toothache."

Harry smiled and settled himself comfortably against the cushions. He hoped Teddy would sleep, if only for an hour. The little boy desperately needed some rest and Harry was quite hoping for a few moments of peace.

"I hate not being able to comfort him," Harry said, having felt rather useless all day.

"Don't worry about it so much. He's fine, just a little grumpy."

Harry looked at Teddy's sleeping form, all red-cheeked but mercifully peaceful. "It makes me wonder…who comforted me when I was teething? Who cuddled me when I was poorly?" He felt like a prat for talking about it but since they'd been taking care of Teddy he'd been preoccupied with thoughts of it.

"I know this is the part where I'm supposed to be tactful and act like I don't know how you were brought up…but I saw the bars on your window when you were 12 years old. I heard the stories from Ron. The way they treated you was horrific," George said forcefully and Harry felt a little better about feeling so resentful.

"You know for years I tried to rationalise or excuse it, I tried to reason that it was all my fault somehow but now…now I'm just so angry about it. I look at Teddy and I imagine someone treating him that way and it makes my blood boil. Imagine not cuddling him when he cries or locking him away like a dirty little secret. It's barbaric."

A hand gently swept through his hair and he met George's eyes as the man cradled his head gently. "Knowing what you went through, what your childhood was like, it makes me love…the person you are all the more."

Harry's pulse quickened at the declaration. True, George hadn't said he loved _him_ exactly, but it was as close as anyone had ever come to saying so. He didn't know what to say so he just leant forward and met George in a kiss, insinuating himself into the man's lap as he wrapped his arms around him.

The kiss was slow and gentle, George holding him lightly around his waist as his lips moved sensuously against Harry's. If pressed, Harry would have to say that these kind of kisses were his favourite, these kisses that George commanded so spectacularly, that showed how exquisitely tender he could be.

He loved things hard and fast, it was true, and feeling George's hunger for him when he pinned him to the bed was intoxicating but feeling the tenderness in the man's gentle touches was too wonderful for words. He moaned softly, feeling as though he could spend hours doing just this, content to connect with George in this innocent way.

Snuffles from the pushchair interrupted them, followed by a plaintive little cry from Teddy. Harry pulled back with a rueful smile and said, "Should have known it wouldn't last long."

"Oh don't worry," George said, running a hand up and down his back, "we'll be picking this up again."

Harry smiled and gave George a peck on the lips before he extracted himself from the man's arms and lifted Teddy out of his pushchair, snuggling him in close and kissing his soft hair. "It's alright, my love, I've got you," he soothed, meeting George's eyes as the man smiled up at him. Something warm and safe spread through his chest and he cuddled Teddy even closer.

A week or so later George emerged from his bedroom wearing exquisitely tailored robes in a gorgeous navy blue. The sight of him made Harry's mouth water and he had to put down his coffee before he spilt it. "Why are you so dressed up?" he asked, letting his eyes wander over the grey waistcoat that hugged George's slim torso and the fitted trousers that cupped his pert backside.

"Meeting at Gringotts. I think it's time to put in an offer for Zonko's."

"Oh wow," Harry said, impressed. George had been talking about it for weeks, totting up the figures and debating back and forth over the pros and cons but he'd obviously decided now was the time to take action.

"Is this tie straight?" George asked, and Harry stood up from the dining table to examine it for him.

"Not even a little bit," Harry said with a fond smile, adjusting it for him. "I um…I don't suppose you've got time for me to get all this lot off you and fuck you senseless over the breakfast table?"

"Like what you see?" George asked with a grin.

"Very much so. They'll give you the loan the second you walk in."

"I'm not sure goblins work that way," George laughed as he let his hands slide down to cup Harry's backside. "Sadly I haven't got the time to let you ravage me but I promise you can have me any way you want me when I get back later."

"I'll hold you to that," Harry said he as leant up and wrapped his arms around George's neck and kissed him soundly.

"Mm, one more for good luck," George murmured before claiming Harry's mouth again as he gripped Harry's arse tightly. "I'll see you later, be good."

As George left the flat, his smart valise tucked under one arm, Harry realised with a start that that was the first time they had kissed one another goodbye. It was…rather domestic and Harry couldn't say he minded it too much.

George spent the next week negotiating with the bank and was ultimately successful. He went through his plans with a business advisor and began looking for a General Manager who could deal with the day-to-day running of the store. George was looking to focus solely on research and product development, using the profits from both shops to fund his endeavours.

He was a skilled businessman but Harry knew that he wished Fred had been by his side, steering proceedings. Harry knew how hard it was to plan all these future enterprises without the man and he'd witnessed several moments where George had sat in quiet sadness, paperwork in front of him, mourning the absence of his brother.

"You're late," Harry said, looking up from his latest essay as George entered the flat.

"Bloody solicitors. I swear I have papercuts from the amount of papers I've had to sign."

"Want some dinner?"

"Nah, I'm not hungry," George said, crossing his arms and leaning against the fridge. He looked tired and sad and Harry was filled with the sudden need to take care of him.

He stood up and moved in front of George, reaching out to touch the man's cheek gently. "Is it all too difficult?" he asked and George smiled sadly as he placed his hand over Harry's.

"Cuts like a fucking knife," he whispered.

"What can I do?" Harry asked softly.

George stepped closer, his eyes going to the bedroom. "I…I need…"

He trailed off and Harry understood. George didn't want to ask to be fucked because that wasn't what he needed but he couldn't asked for what he _did_ need. He couldn't ask Harry to make love to him, not when they didn't do that, not when all they did was tumble into bed together and screw for fun.

"Let me take care of you," Harry whispered as he took George's hand and led him to the bedroom. "I've got you," he said softly as he slowly, tenderly undressed George, uncovering inch after inch of smooth, pale flesh.

He lowered him gently to the bed and let his hands roam gently over the man's gorgeous body. He kissed a delicate path over George's neck, down across his chest, letting his hands trace intricate patterns over his skin. He kissed downwards, lavishing attention on every inch of him as George moaned softly beneath him.

His kissed his way down the man's legs and delicately let his tongue rove over his long, elegant feet. He wanted to pleasure every part of George's body, to make the man come undone under his fingertips. He wanted to chase away George's sadness and lavish all the care and attention on his that he needed.

"Harry," George whispered breathily, and Harry smiled at the rawness in the man's voice.

"What do you want?" Harry asked as he moved upwards and let his tongue snake out over the head of the man's cock.

"You inside me," George replied, writhing as Harry deepthroated him. "Oh God please."

Harry summoned their lube and coated his fingers, circling George's entrance as he sucked him. He inserted one finger then another and George keened, pushing down against them.

Harry prepared him slowly and carefully, taking his time as he watched little moments of pleasure cross George's face. He slicked himself up then settled between George's legs, pushing into the man with aching slowness.

"Oh yes," George groaned, tilting his hips upward.

Harry thrust into him deeply, keeping his pace slow and steady, allowing himself to revel in the beautiful feeling of George's tight heat enveloping him completely. His chest pressed against George's, their skin slick with growing sweat, as pleasure spread through Harry with building intensity.

"Oh God, Harry. Yes, yes just like that. You feel so good, so amazing deep inside me."

Harry moaned at the man's words and thrust harder. George arching as Harry hit his prostate. He wrapped a hand around the man's weeping erection and stroked him firmly as he quickened his pace, feeling his orgasm creep up on him.

"Yes yes, God yes," George babbled before he came with a gasp and a shudder, pleasure etched in his features.

Harry braced himself and thrust into George's sated body until he came too, so overwhelmed by the intense pleasure of it he went dizzy. He tried to catch his breath and felt George's hand settle in the small of his back.

"Thank you," the man whispered, pressed a kiss to Harry's temple. "Thank you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for not doing any review responses for last week, we went away for my husband's birthday and I just didn't have time. I hope you enjoyed this week's update, please let me know!


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

"If I have to look at one more book I'm going to throw myself out of the window," Harry growled, settling instead for chucking his book across the room.

"Fed up?" George asked looking up from a stack of papers from his cross-legged position on the couch.

"I've had enough for this week," Harry said with a sigh. "I want to get my Defence and Charms NEWTs as soon as possible but I just can't fit anymore in my brain right now."

"Fancy a distraction?"

Harry grinned and moved over to the sofa, resting his hands on the back of it and leaning over George. "What did you have in mind?" he asked, his brain already supplying him with a few helpful suggestions.

"Get your mind out of the gutter, Mr Potter," George told him with an imperious smirk. "I was merely going to ask if you wanted to come and check out these workshops with me," George said, waving the details in his hand at him.

"Spoilsport," Harry pouted, taking the papers from George. "These are the contenders then, eh?"

"Best of a bad bunch to be honest. I've only agreed to see them because the agent keeps badgering me."

George had decided that he needed to rent a space to use as a proper workspace for developing new products. The shop's back room simply didn't cut it anymore and he wanted somewhere away from prying eyes. He had engaged an agency to help him find somewhere but hadn't had much luck so far.

"So, want to come?"

"Time for a quickie first?" Harry asked hopefully.

"No, you insatiable brat. Not even I can perform that fast."

"Shame, I was just thinking how nice it would be to bend you over the sofa and rim you until you begged me to fuck you, at which point I'd bury myself so deep inside you you'd forget your own name."

George grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him into a bone-melting kiss. Harry moaned as George's ridiculously skilled tongue invaded his mouth and made him want to drag the man into the bedroom and have his wicked way with him.

"You'll pay for that later, Potter," George said in a low voice.

"Promise?"

"Promise."

George apparated them to the first location and they were met by the agent who introduced himself with an oily smile that immediately set Harry's teeth on edge. He clearly thought himself very handsome and he kept sweeping his hair back every time he spoke to George. Harry itched to hex him.

The man (Call Me Robbie, guys) was obviously flirting with George and, while Harry was actually quite glad to be ignored for once, he was getting more and more agitated watching it. George was being polite and friendly but didn't seem to be reciprocating, which was a good thing as Harry would have hexed _himself_ if he had done.

"What do you think? It's bigger than the last one but the space seems a little…awkward," George said as they looked around the third offering.

"Mm maybe," Harry said with a shrug.

"Our agency also offers to broker deals with construction experts. A few charms and you could switch this place around easily," Call Me Robbie said with one of his slick smiles.

"That's useful to know. I'm not sure it's worth what you're asking for though."

"We can be flexible," Call Me Robbie said and Harry looked around the room to see what he could throw at the man.

"Do you mind giving us a little while to look the place over?"

"Of course. I need to pop back to the office anyway. Please, look to your heart's content, I'll be back soon." He disappeared with a smile he probably considered charming and Harry wondered if Ginny would help him dispose of the body.

"Smarmy bastard," Harry said before he could stop himself.

"He's just a typical agent," George said, thankfully missing the jealous tone in Harry's voice.

"Yeah…yeah I suppose so."

Harry couldn't help but wonder if George had found the other man attractive, indeed he wondered it every time they were out and he noticed people looking at George. The man had every right to do so, he had every right to sleep with everyone who crossed his path; he wasn't in a relationship with Harry after all.

"He was flirting with you," Harry said, trying to sound nonchalant.

"Just trying to get me to take the place," George said dismissively.

"Did you think he was attractive?"

"Not particularly," George replied as he walked around the workshop.

Well that was something, Harry supposed, but his mind had started turning things over now and he couldn't stop it. "A lot of people flirt with you, you get noticed a lot," he said, swiping his finger through a pile of dust.

"Well I am devilishly handsome," George said with a grin.

"You are," Harry mumbled. "So…do you ever…notice back?" he asked.

"You're asking if I notice attractive men? Sure, I guess," George said with a shrug.

"Well…do you ever…you know…Do you ever…got out with other blokes?"

"Go out with them?" George asked with a frown.

His pulse racing, Harry asked, "Are you sleeping with anyone besides me? Because I mean that's fine," he added quickly, "we're just fooling around, I know, but just thought I'd ask."

"Ask I was sleeping with other people? Well…no, can't say I am."

Harry felt relief flood him and he tried not to show it too much as he nodded casually.

"Are you?" George asked, and Harry said, "No!" before he could stop himself. "I mean," he sputtered, "I mean…no one's really taken my fancy, you know?"

"But if someone came along who did then you'd pursue it?" George asked, and Harry found himself suddenly on the back foot. He hadn't expected George to turn the question back on him and he had no idea what to say.

"Well I…" he began, and George folded his arms as he waited for his answer. "No," he said after taking a deep breath. "No I wouldn't."

George approached him and Harry was sure he could see a little satisfied smile on the man's lips. "Content to slum it with me for a bit longer, are you?" he asked as he hooked a finger in the waistband of Harry's trousers and pulled him closer.

Harry grinned and said, "Yeah I'd say so. You get the job done."

"Is that so?" George asked with a raised eyebrow. "I still have to pay you back for earlier, don't I?" He popped the button on Harry's jeans and slowly slide his hand inside, Harry's eyes fluttering closed as he was expertly palmed to hardness.

George dropped to his knees and drew Harry's trousers and pants down his legs as he smiled wickedly up at him. A distant voice in the back of Harry's mind questioned if it was a sensible idea to do this here but he quickly told it to bugger off and mind its own business.

George ran his hands up the back of Harry's legs and Harry shivered at the pleasure of it. George's touches were always so delicious that sometimes Harry thought he could have quite happily spent the rest of his life losing himself under George's wonderful hands.

He was drawn into George's mouth slowly as the man's hands cupped his backside and Harry threaded his fingers through George's hair as the man began to torture him. He would never know how George managed to do _that_ with his tongue or how he managed to keep the pressure so damn perfect.

He closed his eyes and basked in the pleasure of it, bracing himself on the work bench with his free hand. How could he ever want to try this with someone else? It was perfect, it was amazing and no one could make him feel the way George did. He'd be a fool to try and seek it elsewhere.

"Oh fuck that's good," he moaned as George sped up the pace, the head of his cock hitting the back of George's throat again and again.

George hummed and grasped Harry's balls with a firm hand, squeezing gently and sending Harry over the edge. He gripped George's hair and went light-headed as he came, watching as George swallowed his release with a smug smile.

"Still happy to slum it with me?"

"You'll do," Harry said, trying to get his breath back.

The pop of apparation sounded from outside and Harry cursed as he yanked his clothing back up, wincing as his still-sensitive cock was wedged back inside his pants. George stood up just as Call Me Robbie came back inside, looking far too innocent, as though he hadn't just been sucking Harry's soul out through his prick.

"So, what do we think, gents?"

"I think we still need to give it some thought, mull it over a bit," George said with a casual smile.

"Of course, no problem. You have all my contact details, don't you?"

"I do, I'll be in touch."

They shook hands and apparated back to the flat, Harry smirking as he said, "Going to give Robbie a call? See if he fancies giving you a good seeing to?"

George gave him a look that went straight to his groin and said, "What happened to the promise of bending me over the sofa and fucking me senseless? Don't tell me you're going back on it?"

"Not a chance," Harry said, pushing George backwards towards the sofa, his blood hot as his overwhelming desire grew. "If you think I'd miss an opportunity to bury myself in that gorgeous arse you must be mad."

* * *

March came and Harry got both his Defence and Charms NEWT under his belt. He was pleased that two were out of the way and he could focus on the other four while he also concentrated on his application to St Mungo's. He was more focused than ever and he couldn't wait until he was officially studying to be a healer.

Teddy was now a frequent guest in his and George's home and they were looking after the little boy every other weekend. Harry loved it; he was falling more and more in love with him the more time he spent with him and, although it was a long way off, he was certain that he wanted his own children.

He could just imagine holding a tiny baby to his chest, his little son or daughter who he would love with all his heart. He spent hours imagining the kind of father he would be, imagining the bond he would build with his children. He sometimes felt giddy that this was a future he would get to pursue, that he had the opportunity to live his own life on his terms.

Of course, thoughts like that invariably led to overwhelming feelings of guilt, guilt that he was alive to experience such things and so many others weren't. When those thoughts crept in all he could do was seek out George and lose himself in the man completely. George had a way of chasing all those shadows away, of making him feel worthy of the opportunities he now had.

He rarely voiced his worries but he knew that George understood. There were times when he would be sitting lost in thoughts that threatened to consume him when he'd feel a hand slide into his hair or settle in the small of his back. George would kiss him in that way that made the world fall away and then he'd be lost in the man's talents, taken over entirely by him.

Easter rolled around and they were summoned to the Burrow for Sunday lunch. George was far happier about it than he had been at Christmas, probably as they weren't staying over and Harry didn't have to coax or cajole to get him there.

"How are you doing?" Harry asked him as he joined him in the garden while they waited for dinner.

"Ok," George replied a shrug. "Just…memories, you know?"

Harry nodded and wished he could reach out and touch him. Sometimes he felt so possessive of the man, as though he belonged to him, and he had to remind himself sharply that they were just two friends fooling around.

"Nice to see Bill and Fleur, isn't it?"

"Mm," George replied. "They seem really happy. I'm pleased for them."

"Are you planning on torturing Gin about Oliver?"

"I don't know, I'll see how brave I'm feeling after a few drinks. Her punches hurt, you know?"

Harry grinned and said, "So Ron always complained. I'm thankful I've never found out for myself."

"Boys! Dinner's ready," Ginny called from the back door.

"Feeling up to it?" Harry asked as they stood up.

"I'm just going to focus on how thoroughly fuckable you look today," George said in that deep voice that always did things to Harry.

"Behave," Harry said with a pleased smile.

"I'm serious. I'm using all my willpower not to grab you and fuck you senseless right here. Those jeans should be illegal."

"Glad you approve," Harry murmured as they made their way inside and took their place at the dinner table.

It was still not the usual family dinner that Harry was used to at the Weasleys but it wasn't the tense, miserable affair that Christmas had been. They were all still grieving, indeed Harry wasn't sure that that kind of grief ever subsided, but they were learning how to live with the terrible hole Fred's loss had created in their lives.

Molly's eyes lit up whenever George joined in the conversation and it obviously meant a great deal to her to see him a little more like his old self. People weren't treading on eggshells like they had been last time and they were venturing jokes and broaching subjects with him that they wouldn't have attempted at Christmas.

George's hand found its way to his knee several times and he couldn't stop himself from reciprocating. He would place his hand on George's lower back or rest it on top of the man's thigh, always trying to be discreet so no one would notice. He wanted to anchor George, to make him feel safe and protected when he knew how hard it was for the man to be in his childhood home.

"I don't know what to say," Molly said as she stood with Harry at the kitchen sink, looking out to the garden where George was standing with Bill, nodding with a smile to something his brother was saying. "He seems so well."

Harry smiled as he watched George, loving to see the man so animated as he spoke. "He has good days and bad days but he's hopeful for the future and that's…that's important."

"I'm so glad he has you, Harry," Molly said and Harry was about to protest that it wasn't like _that_ but she hadn't meant it that way anyway. Besides, George _did_ have him and he was determined to be there for him in whatever way he was needed.

"I'd better go and see what Arthur's up to. I'm sure I saw him heading off to the shed," Molly said with an indulgent smile as she bustled out of the kitchen.

Harry pottered around inside for a bit, looking through the family photographs and smiling at all their happy memories. He loved this family and loved being part of it. He appreciated Molly's mothering, even when it could be at times overbearing, and he had a deep affection for Arthur's gentle approach to fatherhood.

He loved feeling that he had a place amongst them, that he had been welcomed into their family since childhood and he would be forever grateful to them for giving him a sense of belonging. He missed Ron terribly sometimes but they had a friendship that went above temporary distance and the man would always be part of him no matter where he was.

He heard shouts of laughter coming from outside and decided to see what the others were up to; no doubt Ginny had roped them into a competitive game of quidditch. He made it into the hallway when a hand grabbed his arm and he found himself pulled backwards and pushed against the wall.

George's hands held him firmly while the man's lips assaulted his neck. "Do you have any idea how much I want you?" he murmured as a hand slid down his body to cup him through his jeans. "I'm _aching_ to be inside you, to pin you down and fuck you into the middle of next week."

Harry groaned as he grabbed George's hair while the man tormented his throat. He was so sensitive there and George knew it all too well. He knew just how to make Harry keen and writhe beneath him and Harry loved being completely at the man's mercy.

"I want to feel you underneath me, taste every inch of you, make you beg for it."

"Oh Jesus, George. What are you trying to do to me?"

"Making you picture it," George murmured against his skin. "Can you, hm? Can you feel me inside you? Between your legs? Pounding you into the mattress?"

Harry was harder than he'd ever been in his life and he thrust his pelvis upwards to grind against George. He was desperate to feel George's hands on him, to feel skin on skin. George's passion for him was overwhelming and he wanted to bask in it for as long as he was allowed.

"It's torture having to keep my hands off you," George whispered as he pressed himself against Harry. "I want to get you home and fuck you."

"Oh fuck yes. Please," Harry moaned and George pulled back, his expression so bloody smouldering that a thrill went up Harry's spine. Knowing how much the man wanted him made Harry feel as though he was walking on air and his skin tingled with the intensity of it.

"Guys, Mum wants to know if you want a coffee…or Dad's offering brandy," came Bill's voice, and George pulled Harry away from the wall and wrapped an arm around his shoulders as the man came into the hallway.

"Actually, Harry's feeling a bit ropey. I was going to take him home."

"Oh, you do look very flushed," Bill said with a look of brotherly concern that Harry would have appreciated were it not for the fact that he was so hard he thought he might explode.

"Tell Mum for us, ok?" George said, and Harry had no idea how the man was managing to be so normal.

"Of course. Hope you feel better, mate," Bill said with a kind smile. "Straight to bed when you get home, eh?"

"Oh don't worry, that's exactly where I'm taking him," George said before he apparated them both away.

Harry didn't have time to blink before his clothes were removed with a spell and he was pushed onto the bed. George was on top of him in an instant, his body pressed against Harry's as their cocks brushed, Harry moaning at the contact. George's hands and lips were everywhere and Harry arched into every touch, seeking more and more each time.

Feeling George's hunger for him was incredible; it eked into his skin and sent his blood rushing through his veins. It was almost animalistic and Harry's mind ceded control to his body entirely, everything far too hazy through the lens of desire to give energy to anything as complicated as thinking.

His cock was swallowed into warm suction while slick fingers breached him. Even through the heady cloak of passion, George was still careful with him, still mindful not to hurt him and Harry felt so safe that he surrendered himself entirely. He was prepared thoroughly while George deepthroated him to within an inch of his sanity.

He barely had time to collect himself before George was suddenly between his legs and sliding inside him. Harry moaned with pleasure as George went all the way to the hilt, giving Harry a moment before he began to pound in and out of him. He was thoroughly overtaken by the incredible sensation of George fucking him like there was no tomorrow and he wrapped his legs around the man's waist as George braced himself on strong arms and thrust into him.

He wanted to offer words of encouragement, to cheer George on and show just how much he approved of the man's sheer devastation of his body but he couldn't organise his mind enough to attempt to speak. He settled instead for a succession of moans and breathy sighs as he edged ever closer to an earth-shattering end.

George's hand wrapped around him and few firm strokes were all it took to tip Harry over the edge. Harry's back bowed and he came so hard he went dizzy. His blood pulsed in his ears and he dimly registered George thrusting into him until his body shuddered and he collapsed down onto Harry.

"Oh fucking hell," George groaned and Harry agreed with him whole-heartedly. He hummed, which was all he could do, and wondered when the feeling would return to his legs.

They lay in a tangle for a while until George slipped from his body and rolled over to his side. Harry looked up at him and was surprised to see he looked a little uncomfortable.

"Are you ok?" Harry asked, concerned.

"I um…I didn't mean to be quite so…forceful. I…should have checked that you were ok with it. You know…you know you can always so no to me, don't you?"

Harry knew George well enough to know that there was something more behind the question. He propped himself up on his elbow and said, "Why are you asking me that?"

George paused for a moment and Harry knew the man was debating whether or not to be truthful. "I never want you to feel you can't say no to me," he said eventually. "The first…the first guy I was with…he never really gave me that option."

Harry's eyes widened and George continued quickly, "He never hurt me, it wasn't like that, it's just that…it always felt my needs came second to his. I always felt that saying no was never really an option. I don't want to be like that."

"George," Harry said gently, "I don't think I've ever felt safer or more protected than when I'm with you. I trust you completely and you've never made me feel anything other than…totally secure."

George reached up and touched Harry's cheek gently and Harry felt his stomach flutter at the man's tenderness. "Stay," George said quietly.

"Sorry?" Harry asked, confused.

"Stay here tonight, with me."

They had never shared a bed before, not when they weren't shagging each other's brains out in it anyway, but Harry would be lying if he said he hadn't thought about it. He settled down next to George, enchanted by the man's relieved smile, and couldn't help his own as a tentative arm slid around his waist.

He shifted closer until he was properly wound around the man, delighting in being able to be this close to George when it wasn't just about sex. George held him tightly and Harry felt a gentle kiss to his hair. He fell asleep grinning like a fool.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapter week, because why not? I've just finished writing this and we have 15 chapters in total, epilogue included. This chapter is one of my favourites, please let me know your thoughts.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Harry lay pillowed against George's chest as they sprawled together on the sofa watching a film. When he'd begun to feel sleepy it had felt natural to cuddle up to the man and George had seemed only too happy to oblige him. It was heaven and Harry wasn't even watching the film anymore, he was simply indulging in the simple pleasure of being held by the man.

Over the last couple of weeks they'd slept in the same bed every night, despite the fact that they'd only had sex once or twice. Harry was getting quickly addicted to falling asleep in George's arms and a dim part of Harry's mind was trying to alert him to the fact that he was in very serious danger.

Fuck buddies, friends with benefits, whatever the hell they were supposed to be didn't sleep in one another's beds. They didn't snuggle up on the sofa together or kiss each other goodbye in the mornings yet they were doing all these things. He knew he should be putting a stop to it, or at least raising the issue with George, but he was enjoying it too much.

George's affectionate touches were heaven and Harry was too busy basking in them to want to lose them. "You're falling asleep," George said indulgently, pressing a kiss to his temple. "Is the film that boring?"

"Mm, just resting my eyes. Taking whatever chance I can before we have our little monster tomorrow," Harry said, cuddling in closer as George's fingers teased through his hair.

"He's sleeping a lot better now he's not teething anymore," George said with a yawn. "Oh stuff this, I'm knackered too, let's turn in."

Harry was asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow, wrapped in George's arms and smiling stupidly about the fact. His sleep was short-lived though and he soon found his peace shattered by the slow creep of old, familiar nightmares. Faces of those who had died haunted him, chasing him through never-ending forests while an ever-present threat loomed over him.

He felt fear grip him and he felt as though he was deep underwater, trying desperately to find the surface. He was panicked and terrified, a dreadful knowledge seeping through him that if he couldn't find a way out he would be trapped there forever. His terror grew as the dead continued to pursue him, their empty eyes condemning him for living when they were not.

"It's ok, it's ok. I've got you," he heard a voice say, somewhere far off and distant. "Ssh, you're safe, you're safe."

He clung onto the voice like a life raft and pulled himself through the mire of nightmares. He surfaced to find himself held in strong arms, pulled tightly against a firm chest. His breathing was harsh and coming in rasps, and his pulse was pounding behind his eyes.

"It's alright, love. Take a couple of deep breaths."

George's voice was calm and soothing and Harry let it ground him as he listened to the gentle instructions. He tried to even out his breathing as George's hand stroked his hair, anchoring him a little more to reality.

"You're safe, love. You're safe," George repeated, and Harry clung onto the assertion, dimly believing it was true.

"God, George. I'm sorry," Harry mumbled, embarrassment creeping in.

"Don't apologise, you daft sod. I have enough bloody nightmares of my own, I know how the terror can grip you."

Harry felt relieved that George didn't think he was pathetic, that he hadn't humiliated himself and would no longer be welcome in the man's bed. He knew George wasn't like that, of course, but a childhood filled with rejection had set him up for a lifetime of insecurity.

"Do you want to talk about it?" George offered softly as he continued to stroke Harry's hair.

"I…no, I don't think so. Can you just hold me?" he asked quietly.

"Of course I can, love. Of course I can."

Harry expected to wake up the next day feeling embarrassed or uncomfortable. Instead, George pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead and asked if he was ready for the day ahead with Teddy. He didn't feel foolish or ashamed, he just felt safe, cared for. Nightmares had always been part of his life but to be held in someone's arms while they were chased away was an entirely new experience for him.

Teddy arrived and they had a lazy day at home as the weather was foul. George's wonderful imagination came in handy devising all sorts of games to keep the little boy entertained and Teddy's favourites always included anything messy.

Oddly, George was the stricter of the two of them. He insisted on maintaining routines and encouraged Teddy to get used to the words 'please' and 'thank you'. He wouldn't tolerate tantrums and maintained that putting Teddy to bed at the same time was important. Harry was a self-confessed soft touch and he would have spoilt Teddy rotten without George's intervention.

With Harry now almost permanently in George's room, they set up Teddy's cot in Harry's room and kept both doors open so they could hear him. He was a relatively sound sleeper and a content little fellow in general but occasionally he did wake up in the night and would struggle to get back to sleep.

Harry woke up in the small hours to the sounds of Teddy snuffling and grumbling across the hall. He extracted himself from George's arms and threw on a t-shirt over his boxers before padding through to the other bedroom. "What's all this then?" he asked as he lifted Teddy onto his hip.

The little boy wasn't crying but he'd obviously managed to get himself into a snit. Harry held him close and rocked him gently, cooing words of comfort. "Got yourself all worked up, hm? Silly sausage."

He heard George join him and then felt the man's arm slip around him, gathering him and Teddy close. "Is he ok?" George asked with a yawn.

"Just in one of his fussy moods," Harry replied, cuddling into the man.

They had learnt to interpret Teddy's moods and how to deal with each one. Harry could barely remember feeling overwhelmed by the little boy's presence and instead felt confident and competent every time he held his godson.

"Little tyke," George said sleepily, nuzzling Harry's temple with his nose. Harry always found him thoroughly adorable when he was sleepy. "Bring him in with us for a bit," the man said, kissing Harry's cheek and wandering back to their room.

Harry followed with Teddy and settled in beside George, feeling oddly giddy. It had been a thoroughly innocuous thing to say but, for some reason, George referring to them as an 'us' had set his heart racing.

Indeed, snuggled up in bed with Teddy between them, Harry had never felt so much a part of an 'us' in his entire life. He was trying not to smile too stupidly but he felt so content watching George babble sleepily to Teddy while they had the little boy in _their_ bed. it was the kind of domestic warmth Harry had always craved and he couldn't help but try to drink in every second of it.

He leant over Teddy and slid a hand to cradle the back of George's head before he kissed him deeply. George responded immediately, opening his mouth to welcome Harry's sweeping tongue readily. God but he could have spent the rest of his life kissing George.

"What was that for?" George asked with a lazy smile.

"Couldn't help myself," Harry replied, mirroring the smile as he swept his fingers through George's hair.

"Avert your eyes, young Edward," George told Teddy with a grin. "You shouldn't have to see such lurid displays."

He leant in for another kiss and Teddy giggled in between them. Harry was in danger and he knew it, in danger of losing himself in this beautiful feeling of family they were creating. He was terrified it would all end in tears and this little existence he had created for himself would be stripped away from him.

* * *

As George's birthday loomed closer, Harry tried to keep the man as distracted and occupied as possible. He already had a plan in place for the day itself, which he had spent a good few days putting into action. Two nights before, even though it was mid-week, he invited all the boys over for a little get-together, though he had stipulated that no one was to mention George's birthday.

He knew the man was struggling with it and he'd woken several times to find George curled up and sobbing. All Harry had been able to do was wrap himself around the man and offer what comfort he could. His heart ached for George; he wanted to take all the man's pain away, if only for a moment, but all he could do was support him as well as he could.

The boys offered a good distraction and, although George was quieter than usual, he joined in with the conversations and laughed at people's daft jokes. There was an aura of sadness to him that hurt Harry but what else could be expected when George was about to experience his first birthday without Fred since birth?

"There's a quidditch scout going to Hogwarts in the next couple of weeks," Oliver said, clearly excited. "She'll spot Ginny in a heartbeat. I'm going to go along, offer my support."

"Support eh?" Dean said, waggling his eyebrows.

"Yes, support," Oliver insisted. "I've been through the process, Gin wants to know what to expect. Besides, I really want to see her play," he said with the kind of look in his eyes most straight men had when thinking about breasts.

"Oh she's excellent," Seamus said emphatically. "Truly a brilliant flyer and a wonderful player too. I'll eat my hat if she doesn't make pro."

George's mind clearly kept wandering throughout the night and he often looked distracted and distant. Harry wanted so much to reach out and wrap his arm around the man's shoulders or take his hand and offer him support but he couldn't, not in front of other people.

"All set for the rest of your exams?" Neville asked Harry.

"God I hope so. I'm just ready to get them out of the way now. I sent off my application to St Mungo's yesterday so fingers crossed," he said, sharing a smile with George, who had helped him put the finishing touches to the application.

"You'll ace it, you've worked so hard," Neville said, and Harry was pleased with the assertion that his hard work would get him there rather than his notoriety.

"How's Teddy?" Seamus asked. He was an absolute softie when it came to children and had joined in with an outing or two when they'd taken the little boy out for the day.

"He's well," Harry said with a proud smile. "He says 'Unc Arry' now and calls George 'Unca Gorge'."

"Well he's not wrong," said George with a grin and Harry privately agreed. "He's started tottering too, it's so cute to see him wobbling around the place."

There was that familiar feeling of cosy warmth in his chest again and Harry couldn't help but revel in it. He was helping to raise Teddy and he was doing it with George. The man was as much a part of Teddy's life as he was and it made Harry so happy to think of them bringing Teddy up together.

"He's such a sunny-natured boy and he's so funny with his little quirks. He gets the cutest expression on his face when he tries to figure something out."

"Aw Harry, you sound like a proud papa," Neville said, and Harry realised that that was exactly what he was. He was the only father figure in Teddy's life and he wanted to be the best one he could.

After a few hands of poker, which George won each time, the night wound down and the boys bid them farewell. It was almost time for Harry to put his plan into action and he waited until George was in the bedroom before he hit him with a meticulous sleeping charm.

The man collapsed on the bed and Harry spared a moment to feel guilty before he moved to the wardrobe and grabbed the shrunken suitcases he'd packed. Checking his watch, he grabbed hold of George's sleeping form and waited for the portkey he had organised to activate.

They were both whisked away and materialised in a beautiful hotel room. Harry removed George's clothes, apart from his underwear, with a spell, then settled him into the large, plush double bed. He put their luggage to one side and extracted a small vial.

Stripping his own clothes off he nestled down beside George and downed the contents of the vial. He'd timed both the sleeping charm and the potion in great detail so, with any luck, they would both be well rested in time for George's birthday. He'd had to take both the time difference and jet lag into account and he hoped he hadn't missed the mark.

He woke the next day and saw the breakfast he had pre-ordered waiting for them on the table by the window. Smiling, he checked the time and saw that it was nearly half nine. He waited for a minute or two and George began to stir. He blinked and yawned then looked up at Harry in confusion.

"What's going on? Where are we?" he asked.

"Australia."

"What?"

"Well, I knew how hard today would be for you and I thought, if it were me, I'd want to be on the other side of the plant, as far away from everything as possible. So, here we are."

"Oh Harry," George said softly, reaching up and cupping Harry's cheek.

"Happy birthday. I know it's painful and we don't have to celebrate it if you don't want to but I hope this helps."

"It helps, Harry, it helps more than you know. I was dreading today, I didn't know how I was going to get through it. Truth be told, if it hadn't been for you, I'd have thrown in the towel months ago."

Harry didn't know what to say to that, didn't know how to tell George that he had felt the same way many times and that the man had been his salvation in many ways. "Come on, let's have some breakfast," he said, directing them both to the table.

George took in the view, which overlooked Sydney harbour, while Harry poured the coffee and plated up all the things he knew George liked. The hotel was magical, which allowed for their unusual arrival, and Harry had spent a fair amount of money securing one of their best rooms.

He'd checked with Molly and Arthur that they were alright with him kidnapping George and taking him out of the country and they'd both agreed that it would be the best thing for him. They were finding things hard to cope with themselves and had decided to go and visit Charlie to get some distance of their own.

"Ron and Hermione are apparating over from Adelaide, they can't wait to see you."

George smiled and said, "Merlin, I never thought I'd miss that little shit. Now I can't wait to see him."

"He's pretty keen to see you too."

Harry was very much looking forward to seeing his best friends. He'd missed them terribly but he was happy that they were building a new life for themselves. There were times he'd wanted to talk to Ron about what was going on with George but he wouldn't have known where to begin and talking about his relationship with the man's own brother would very possibly border on weird.

They enjoyed their leisurely breakfast then decided to take a walk down along the harbour. At one point, George reached out and took his hand they strolled with their hands entwined, Harry feeling almost ecstatic at the easy intimacy of it. They settled on a bench and exchanged a few gentle kisses, Harry absolutely giddy that they were doing so in public, in the light of day, and not tucked away in their flat.

Ron and Hermione were meeting them at the hotel for lunch so they strolled back in time for their arrival. It was more of an emotional reunion than Harry had been prepared for and he found himself completely overwhelmed as he hugged his friends so hard he thought he might suffocate them. George and Ron were in tears as they greeted one another and Harry was moved by how happy they were to see each other.

"You both look so well," Harry said with they finally settled in the restaurant, all still a little giddy.

"We're really happy out here," Ron said, taking Hermione's hand with a smile. "I don't think either of us realised how much we needed to get away."

"How are your parents?" George asked Hermione.

"They're well. I've nearly undone all the memory work on them and they're planning to move back to Britain soon."

"Does that mean you'll both be coming back?" Harry asked.

Ron and Hermione exchanged a glance and Ron said, "We think we're going to stay a bit longer. We still have plenty of funds and…we're happy here."

Harry, Ron and Hermione had all received a sizeable sum from the Ministry after Voldemort's defeat and Ron and Hermione were using theirs to live on. Harry had put his in a trust fund for Teddy, already having more than enough money from his Potter and Black inheritances.

"We will start coming back more though, I promise," Ron said guiltily.

"You do whatever's right for you. Whatever makes you both happy," George said sincerely.

"Have you sent off your application to St Mungo's, Harry?" Hermione asked, interested.

Harry updated them on how he was doing, how he was preparing to take his last couple of exams in a few weeks and how nervous he was about being accepted into the healers' programme. George told them about progress with the shop and the ongoing purchase of Zonko's along with all the plans he had for both.

They both narrated stories from back home, updating them on their friends and Ginny's potentially budding romance with Oliver. They told them all about Teddy and how they now had him every other week. Harry couldn't help but grin as they both sounded like doting parents, amazed at every little achievement the boy accomplished.

The afternoon stretched into evening and Harry was relieved to find that the easy closeness he had always shared with his friends still existed and that conversation came naturally. It was good to know that they could be worlds apart and not see each other for months on end yet still be able to pick up right where they left off.

They migrated to a few bars as the night went on and Harry was thrilled to see how completely in love his friends were. They still had the same dynamic they had always had but now it was enriched with a deep love and affection that was very obvious. Hermione had calmed down a bit and Ron had matured. They complemented each other very well.

"You look so happy, mate," Harry said as he looked to the bar where Hermione and George were waiting to be served.

"I am," Ron said with a smile. "At first I was worried that it was just a childish infatuation, something that we wouldn't be able to sustain without the backdrop of war but it's really grown since we've been out here."

"I'm pleased for you," Harry said with a smile, relieved that it wasn't a lie.

"I've got to say, I'm amazed at George," Ron said, looking over his brother.

"How do you mean?"

"Well, truth be told, I was so nervous about seeing him today. I…I didn't know what to expect but I was terrified he'd be…just a shell. I can see he's struggling, who wouldn't be? But he's…he's happy and I'm just so glad to see it."

"He's doing well," Harry said, trying not to look too sloppily at the man. "It's a rocky road sometimes but we manage."

"Mm. And how long have you been in love with him?" Ron asked casually and Harry nearly fell off his chair.

"What?" he squeaked, his mouth suddenly dry.

"Just wondering. I wasn't aware of it before I moved out here so I have to assume it's happened since."

"I'm not…I mean I don't – "

"Don't try and deny it, it's painfully obvious," Ron said, leaning back in his chair. He looked at Harry with a frown and said, "Oh for fuck's sake, don't tell me you didn't realise."

"I…don't know," Harry said, feeling like an idiot. "It's just…just casual," he said weakly.

"The way you look at George is anything but casual," Ron said gently.

"I um…I guess I have feelings for him," Harry said with a shrug. He'd been trying not to examine these feelings too closely for fear of what he might uncover but even he, with his stunted emotional intelligence, knew there was something there.

"Oh Harry you're head over heels for him. The way you look at him is a dead giveaway."

"I don't – "

"And," Ron said pointedly, "if I know my brother, I'd say those feelings are returned."

Harry was so stunned that he couldn't respond and he sat looking at his friend like a gaping goldfish. Were he and George in love? Surely not; they weren't even in a relationship, how could they be in love?

"Budge up," George said as he and Hermione returned with the drinks. "What are you two talking about then?"

"Just speculating about Oliver and Gin," Ron lied smoothly.

"Oh they're definitely dating, or very soon will be," said George, leaning back and casually wrapping an arm around Harry's shoulders. Ron's eyebrows rose but he thankfully said nothing as Harry settled into George's hold.

The night continued with much conversation and laughter, and Harry kept feeling pangs of regret that he'd have to leave his friends behind once they returned home again. They would all have to endeavour to visit more often, although that was probably more easily said than done.

It was more emotional saying goodbye than it had been reuniting and Harry hugged Ron far harder than was strictly necessary. There were many promises of visits and letters, and Harry had to hope that they would all stick to them.

He and George made their way arm-in-arm back to the hotel, George a little tearful, though he assured Harry that they were good tears. He was happy, if a little melancholy, and seeing Ron had been more of a tonic that he'd expected.

They had just made it through the door of the room when Harry was gently pulled into George's arms and kissed with such softness he thought he might melt. He slid his hands up to George's shoulders and into the man's hair as the kiss became deep and sensual.

He wasn't entirely sure how they'd make it to the bed or how they'd shed their clothes along the way but Harry found himself laid out on the bed with George's gloriously naked body pressed against his own. The man's lips and hands were everywhere, soft and tender, caressing Harry with gentleness.

He was lost in it completely, surrendering fully for George's beautiful touches. His name was whispered in breathy sighs and his body was worshipped as George kissed and caressed every inch of his skin. He was entered slowly, smoothly, moans drawn from both of them as George slid home.

They rocked together slowly, Harry body arching again and again as he took George deeply inside him. It was slow and gentle, two bodies joining together, connecting as intimately as possible. Pleasure flooded him and he didn't want it ever to stop. He felt so close to George, so cared for and safe that he wanted to hold the moment in time forever.

His orgasm came sooner than he was prepared for and it crashed through him with force. He dimply registered George reaching his own completion as he was overtaken with a swell of emotion that took him completely by surprise. He didn't even realise he had tears on his face until George said in a voice full of concern, "Oh Merlin, Harry. Are you alright? Did I hurt you?"

"No," Harry said with a strained laugh, reaching up to touch George's cheek. "Ignore me, I'm just…Jesus, I'm a daft sod. Probably just jet lag."

George withdrew gently with a cleaning charm and gathered Harry in his arms, placing a kiss to the top of his head. Harry snuggled in close, all too aware that the reason for his tears had been the stark realisation that George had just made love to him. He pushed the thought to the back of his mind as he concentrated on being held, safe and protected in George's embrace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed the chapter, please let me know.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Harry was trying not to gaze too soppily at George as he watched him across the table. Ostensibly Harry was busy revising, with his books and papers spread out in front of him, but he couldn't resist sneaking looks at George who was lost in managing his business affairs.

Harry was smitten with the look of focused concentration on the man's face, with the slight frown between his brow, the way he would occasionally bite his lip as he thought. It was thoroughly distracting to have to sit opposite him and Harry was close to abandoning his endeavours altogether.

If he was honest with himself, he'd been googly-eyed over the man since they'd returned from Australia. Of course, he'd fancied George for months and hadn't needed to hide it, not when they were fucking each other senseless at every opportunity, but this felt different. This felt real. It went beyond sex, beyond simply wanting the man; he had deep and genuine feelings for him and he was falling hard.

He hadn't anticipated this; perhaps he'd been naïve not to see it coming but this thing was just meant to be sex. He wasn't supposed to fall in love with the man, they were just meant to fool around, allow Harry to explore his sexuality, then go their separate ways. Now it had become so much more and Harry had no idea where he stood.

He spent night after night in George's bed, in his arms, and during the day they exchanged a thousand little touches that always set Harry's pulse racing. They cooked together, watched TV together, looked after Teddy together and had such a domestic little set-up that Harry was sure no one could say they were just fuck buddies.

A tap at the window interrupted his thoughts and he looked to see an unfamiliar owl waiting patiently. He got up and retrieved the letter, the owl very sweet and affectionate as it received a titbit from him with a soft nuzzle of his fingers. "It's for you," he said, handing the letter to George.

George looked up as though he'd forgotten Harry was there and took the letter with a half-distracted, "Oh." Harry refused to find it adorable. George scanned the letter, his eyes lighting up as he read. "Oh bloody marvellous," he said with enthusiasm.

"Good news?" Harry asked, extracting a plate that had once held toast from underneath George's elbow.

"Erik Hansen's back in England."

"Who's Erik Hansen?" Harry asked, trying to stamp down the feeling of jealousy that was rising in his throat.

"Well, while you were busy fighting dragons during the Tri-wizard, Fred and I were making useful contacts among our visiting students. Erik was one of the Durmstrang lot and he had a devilishly fiendish mind that Fred and I picked clean for ideas. I wrote to him a couple of weeks ago to see if he'd be interested in collaborating on some product ideas and now he's in England and keen to meet up!"

"That's excellent," Harry said, plastering on a smile. He knew he was being irrational, he couldn't even remember Erik bloody Hansen, but what if he was a devastatingly handsome Norwegian who would swoop in and sweep George off his feet? What if George had just been passing time with him until something better came along?

"Hm, where's my diary?" George said, rifling through the detritus on the table. "When's Teddy's birthday party?"

"Weekend after next."

"Right so I can do any date apart from that, right?"

"You never provided the skirt and stockings – I'm not your secretary," Harry said, trying to be jovial to hide his irritation.

"One day, love, I promise," George said with an evil grin and Harry's stomach fluttered at the casual term of endearment. "Hm, I could meet him on the 17th, then I could invite him out with us and the boys afterward?"

"The more the merrier," Harry said, lying through his teeth.

He had been prepared to hate Erik on sight and indeed the man was as handsome as he'd feared. He was also thoroughly charming and, despite Harry's best efforts, he liked the man immediately. He slotted in well with their little group and the others seemed to warm to him with ease.

George was attentive to him but no more so than he would have been with anyone who was new to the group. Harry tried to watch for any signs that George was interested in the man or that Erik was interested in George but George always played his cards so close to his chest it was impossible to tell.

"Stop staring, you weirdo," Neville whispered beside him, giving him a dig to the ribs.

"I'm not," Harry protested, trying to listen to George and Erik's conversation, which was nearly impossible over the din Seamus and Lee were making.

"Afraid someone's muscling in on your boyfriend?"

"He's not my boyfriend," Harry answered petulantly.

"He could be if you just pulled your head out of your arse."

"Do you think he fancies Erik? Do you think there could be something going on between them?"

Neville made a noise of frustration and said, "When he's completely in love with you? Not bloody likely."

"He's not in love – "

"Oh shut up, you moron," Neville all but growled. "Of course he is and you're in love with him. I don't know why you're dancing around the subject."

"We're just casual, just –"

"If I have to hear that one more time I'm going to stick a fork in your eye. You _live_ together, you raise Teddy together, you have a whole damn life together. Don't tell me you're just fuck buddies."

"But…nothing's official," Harry said, hearing the whine in his voice.

"Then _make_ it official and stop mooning around after him."

Harry sat back in his chair with a pout and tried not to look in George and Erik's direction. Did the man have to be so bloody handsome? Why couldn't he have been a thick-necked meat-head like so many of the others from Durmstrang had been?

George was nodding enthusiastically to something Erik was saying while he began making notes on a napkin. They kept grinning at one another and Harry tried not to feel too jealous at the obvious camaraderie between them. He was being pathetic and he knew he was but he was feeling insecure and the undefined nature of their relationship didn't help much.

As childish as it was, when they returned to their flat Harry was determined to knock all thoughts of handsome Norwegian men from George's mind. He had George naked and bent over the sofa before the man could blink, rimming him senseless. He wrung every last delicious moan he could from him before he stood up and positioned himself before ramming home.

With one hand holding George's hip and the other gripping the man's hair, he thrust into him again and again, going as deep as he could. George's cries of pleasure and breathy words of encouragement spurred him on as he buried himself over and over again, lost in George's exquisite tightness.

George's hands grabbed at the cushions as he pushed back against Harry, impaling himself and taking Harry's hard thrusts enthusiastically. "Oh fuck yes, Harry," he groaned. "So fucking good, fuck me harder," he begged and Harry was all too happy to oblige. He slammed into the man as he grasped his cock and pumped hard.

George came with a shout of triumph and Harry followed soon after as he ploughed into the man with abandon. _There_ , he thought smugly, _who's thinking of bloody Norwegian men now_?

* * *

Teddy turned one and they had a small party at Andromeda's to mark the occasion. She invited a few people from the playgroup Teddy attended and Ted's mother and sister came along too. George was wonderful at keeping the little ones entertained and Harry watched with a smile as he performed 'magic' for them.

He supposed that most nearly 19 year olds didn't think a child's birthday party was the height of excitement, but he wouldn't have missed it for the world. He intended to be in Teddy's life for a long time to come and he didn't want to miss a single milestone. He had been there for Teddy's first words and his first steps and he wanted to be there for all the other firsts that were to come.

He loved how Teddy's eyes lit up whenever he saw him, how the little boy would reach out to him to be held, how he would settle in his arms and sleep soundly. He could barely remember being afraid of his own godson, feeling inadequate and scared. He loved Teddy whole-heartedly and he loved being such an important part in his life.

"Ok that little girl with the bow is too adorable for words," George said as he jumped up on the work surface while Harry and Andromeda sorted out food and drink for the guests.

"She seems pretty smitten with you too," Harry said with a smile. "She giggles every time you go near her."

"I have a way with women," George said, wiggling his eyebrows.

"So I saw," Harry said, smacking George's hand away from the vegetable crudités.

"You know, we really should think about turning the spare room into a proper bedroom for Teddy," George said, sneaking around Harry and grabbing a carrot.

Harry was so shocked that he didn't even admonish him. Firstly, George had referred to Harry's room as the spare room, as though he no longer needed it anymore, that it was a given he would be in George's room permanently. Secondly, he had done so in front of Andromeda, acknowledging the fact that they shared a bed night after night.

"Yeah," he mumbled, feeling blindsided. "Yeah we should think about that."

"Andromeda, where's the best place for children's furniture?" George asked but Harry didn't hear the answer. He was too busy trying to fathom what this new development meant.

It made his head spin and he tried to focus on preparing the food in front of him rather than trying to untangle the significance of George's words. There was a long overdue conversation that needed to happen, he knew that, but he was terrified of rocking the boat, of upsetting the delicate balance of the odd little set-up they had.

He pushed it to the back of his mind throughout the party and instead focused on Teddy and the little boy's enjoyment. He knew a few of the other parents were looking at him and George with curiosity, wondering where they fitted in to Teddy's life, but Harry had enough question of his own without answering other people's.

He loved watching George with the children, who all seemed to adore him, and the little cutie with the bow was particularly smitten with him.

"She adores you!" the little girl's mother said as she watched George bounce her on his hip. "You're so good with her, you must be thinking about children of your own?"

Harry's heart thudded in his chest as George looked up at him with a smile and said, "One day, for sure. I'd love to be a dad."

Harry was fairly certain he was going to pass out if he didn't remember how to breathe. How was he supposed to interpret that? George had looked directly at him when he'd made his comment and surely that meant something? This day was turning out to be one of the most confusing ones of his life.

He ended up in the kitchen with Andromeda after everyone had left, the two of them doing the washing up. "How does George always manage to escape this?" Harry asked as he dried up.

"I suspect being part of a large family gives one ample opportunity to hone the best tricks to avoid chores," Andromeda said with a smile.

Harry always wondered about Andromeda's own family life growing up. He couldn't imagine being raised alongside Narcissa and Bellatrix, nor could he account for how down to earth and thoroughly normal Andromeda was. It was proof that one's upbringing didn't have to define a person, which was a bloody good thing in his case.

"It seems suspiciously quiet out there," Harry said, glancing at the doorway. "I think I'll just go and check on them."

He slung the tea towel over his shoulder and headed for the living room, stopping in his tracks when he found the missing pair. George was sprawled on the sofa, fast asleep, with Teddy snuggled up against his chest, his little thumb wedged in his mouth. Harry knew he was smiling stupidly but he just couldn't help himself.

The two of them made such a beautiful picture together and Harry's love for them both felt overpowering. He loved this little life he had built for himself and he felt fiercely protective of it. Beyond that, he knew with utter certainty that whatever future awaited him, he wanted it to be with George. He wanted George to be the father of his children, wanted him to be the one he raised a family with.

He wanted to watch George with _their_ children in the same way he watched him with Teddy. He wanted to see the man cradle their newborn son or daughter to his chest and observe all the milestones together as they had done with Teddy. He was in very serious trouble and he knew it. He couldn't carry on building these castles in the air when nothing was definite between them.

It preoccupied him constantly in the days after the party and he turned it over and over again in his mind. It became even more confusing as they made plans to turn Harry's old room into a bedroom for Teddy. He was giddy and bewildered by it in equal measures and with each catalogue they looked through together Harry wondered if his head might explode.

To add to his worries, Harry was smack bang in the middle of his exams, which were stressful enough, but the anniversary of the final battle was also looming. The presence of the press was growing daily and Harry was beginning to dread setting foot outside the door.

Every newspaper article was dedicated to documenting the events of that fateful day and, while Harry understood the need to celebrate a year free of Voldemort, he couldn't bear to be reminded of the trauma of it all.

It was also, of course, the anniversary of so many people's deaths, including Fred's. Harry was struggling with it so much and feeling desperately guilty that he wasn't being better support to George. He wasn't sleeping well, worrying constantly about performing poorly in his exams, while being haunted by the events of last year.

He tried to distract himself, to keep himself occupied. He worked in the shop and looked after Teddy more than he usually did, trying desperately to keep from dwelling on all the things that were bothering him. He lost himself in George night after night as they took comfort in one another. It was, he found, also better to lie awake next to someone rather than lying in a cold bed alone, feeling like the only person left in an empty world.

"You don't look well," George told him gently a couple of days before the anniversary.

"I um…I'm not sleeping well," Harry said, feeling guilty that George was concerned for him when he was surely struggling himself.

"I know," George said, brushing his fingers through Harry's hair. "I know how hard this is."

"Fuck George, I'm being so selfish. I should be here for you. I promise you I – "

"Ssh," George said, pulling Harry into his arms and enveloping him in warmth. "Don't be so daft. You don't have to pretend that this isn't difficult for you. I understand," George said softly as he rubbed soothing circles on Harry's back.

Harry felt relieved but still guilty and he wished he could snap himself out of it. He buried his face in George's shoulder and took all the comfort he could from the man's strong arms. No one had ever been there for him the way George was and he'd never been able to trust anyone the way he did George.

"I have some things to do today but…I have something planned for us later," George said as he cradled Harry's head gently.

Intrigued but cautious, Harry said, "As long as it doesn't involve going out in public, I'm in."

George chuckled and said, "No adoring public, I promise. Will you be ok here on your own today?"

"Yeah of course. I just…need to keep occupied."

George pressed a kiss to Harry's temple and said, "I'll be back as soon as I can, love. Just take it easy."

He gave Harry a squeeze and they separated, exchanging a chaste kiss before George left for the day. Harry was ashamed but he hated the thought of being left alone. Thankfully, he had friends who had sensitivity enough to realise that and he received firecalls from Ron and Hermione followed by Dean and Seamus. Neville popped in and spent the afternoon with him, which actually stopped him from going crazy.

"The more you try not to think about it the more you will," the man said sensibly over a cup of tea. "Just let yourself go through it, it isn't healthy to try and shut those feelings out."

"I just feel like such a twat," Harry said with a sigh as he curled his feet beneath him. "Plenty more people suffered worse than I did, I have no right to be moping around."

"Harry, there isn't a moratorium on grief or trauma based off some imaginary scale. One person's feelings are no less valid than another's, whatever the circumstances. Besides, you really shouldn't be too quick to dismiss what you went through. You've faced more than most people ever have to go through. For fuck's sake, Harry, you _died_!"

Harry wrapped his hands around his mug and pulled it to his chest. "I'm not sure I ever really dealt with it properly," he admitted quietly. "I was so focused on getting through it, on being grateful to be alive that I never stopped to think about it. It's all kind of caught up with me."

"That's understandable. I think this first anniversary is weighing heavily on a lot of us."

"Yeah?" Harry asked, relieved that it wasn't just him.

"Of course. Harry, you know that people can experience different kinds of stress after a trauma right? It's horrible but perfectly natural."

"I never thought of it that way. I just thought I was meant to…get on with it."

"There are people who could help you work through it."

"You mean like a shrink?"

"I'm guessing that's a muggle term but there are mind healers, people you could talk to. I know there are stupid stigmas around getting help for mental health issues but it's important to take care of these things."

"Thanks Nev, that really helps," Harry said sincerely. Perhaps he would seek out someone he could talk to, someone who would be able to help him make sense of the mess his life had been for so long.

Neville stayed for most of the afternoon and the conversation migrated to pleasanter things. Neville would be attending The European Institute of Herbology in September and he was busy sorting out somewhere to live near their central campus in Germany.

Harry was a little perturbed at the thought of yet another of his friends leaving the country but Neville assured him that he would be back in England most weekends. He'd become very close to the man over the last year and he didn't want to forfeit that closeness.

By the time George arrived home he was feeling a lot more positive and, despite the looming anniversary, he didn't feel as unable to handle it as he'd previously done.

"You're ok?" George asked concernedly as he gathered Harry into his arms.

Harry nodded with a smile as he wound his arms around George's neck. "I think so. I…had the opportunity to put things into perspective."

"I'm glad. Are you ready for my little plan?"

"Definitely. Do I need anything?"

George smiled and said, "Just close your eyes and trust me."

"Easiest thing in the world," Harry said softly, holding on a little tighter as he closed his eyes. He felt the pull of apparation and when he opened his eyes he found that they were standing in the living room of what appeared to be a rustic-style cottage. "Where are we?"

"Tuscany," George replied. "I know it's not quite Australia but I thought it would be better for both of us to be out of the country for the next week. You took care of me on my birthday, now let me return the favour."

"You need looking after too. This date…it can't be easy for you either," Harry said, threading his fingers through George's soft hair.

"Then we'll look after each other, love," George said, and Harry's heart sped up as it always did when George used the term of affection as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

"Are we going to be ok?" Harry asked. If he had his way he would slip into a nice little coma until the anniversary passed but, logically, he knew they had to go through it, as painful as it was.

"Of course we are," George said, and Harry believed him. They'd be fine as long as they were together and Harry was beyond grateful that he'd found someone upon whom he could so thoroughly rely.

He'd never had someone in his life who was just his and, although he was meant to be refraining from such thoughts, he couldn't help but think of George as his. He had to hope he wasn't setting himself up for an almighty fall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed the chapter, please leave a review and let me know.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

The week away did them both the power of good. Harry was relieved to be away from the glare of the press, to distance himself from the stress of it all. The day itself was difficult and he and George both shed plenty of tears. They commemorated Fred in their own private way, swapping stories and raising a toast, as painful as it was.

They remembered Remus and Tonks, along with the others who had fallen, and the talk turned to Sirius and then to Harry's parents. It was a sombre, difficult day and Harry wasn't sure he would have got through it without George by his side. He confided things he had told to no one before and told George all about his terrifying experience with death and the afterlife. It was cathartic and necessary and Harry began to understand the healing benefits of discussing things.

It was nice to get away, to go somewhere nobody knew them and where they wouldn't have to face the intrusion of the press. Harry cherished the quiet days they spent walking in the woods and fields near the cottage and the evenings they spent curled up in front of the fire, talking quietly into the night.

Harry was able to forget about the stress of his exams, the pressure of trying to secure a future for himself. He was considering Neville's advice to see someone professionally; the notion didn't seem like something to be ashamed of anymore and it might be good to talk to someone who could help him work through the jumble of emotions he was so often subjected to.

"Thank you for bringing me here," Harry said as he lay naked in George's arms on their last night in the cottage.

"My pleasure," George said with a kiss to Harry's temple. "I'm glad it helped."

"More than I can say. I didn't realise how much distance I needed from it all."

"It might be nice to come here in the winter. We could have a romantic Christmas break with snow and cosy fireplaces."

"Mm, sounds nice," Harry said, cuddling closer. He was aware that they had just made plans together for the future, _romantic_ ones no less, but it was comforting rather than perturbing. He wanted his future to include George, he knew that with utter certainty, and eventually he would just have to find some of his legendary courage and have a real conversation with the man.

"Are _you_ ok?" Harry asked. "This can't have been easy for you."

"I can't believe he's been gone a whole year," George said quietly. "Sometimes it doesn't feel real. It's too…bizarre that he isn't with me anymore. Sometimes I actually forget he's not there. I'll think, 'Oh I must tell Fred that later' or 'Fred's going to laugh when he hears about this' and then…it hits me. I don't know that it will ever feel normal."

"I don't expect it will," Harry said gently. "Or that it's supposed to."

"Sometimes it feels like a wound that will never heal. Like I'll only ever be half a person."

Harry levered himself up and rested his chin on George's chest, looking up at him through his lashes. "Half or whole, you're still the most incredible person I know."

George rolled him gently onto his back and covered his body with his own, their gloriously naked skin pressed inch upon inch together. "Ditto," he whispered before kissing Harry with such tenderness it nearly took his breath away. He let himself be swept up in the exquisiteness of it, never feeling quite as whole as when he was in George's arms.

It was sad to return home but Harry felt significantly better than when they'd left. He attacked his exams with renewed vigour and celebrated their conclusion with an almighty piss-up that saw him swearing off alcohol for the rest of his days. He still had the results to wait for but he had put so much work in that he was confident even he couldn't have messed things up that badly.

"I don't have to go if you don't want me to," George said as he looked over the letter in his hands while Harry bounced Teddy on his hip.

"Don't be daft. It sounds like a great opportunity to make contacts," Harry said as he tried to convince Teddy to finish his rice cake.

Erik had invited George to a week-long conference in Barcelona for entrepreneurs and inventors. Harry was trying not to be too jealous about it but he wasn't sure he particularly liked the idea of the two men jetting off to a foreign country together, even if it was purely for business.

"You won't miss me then?" George asked teasingly.

"I'll be glad of the peace and quiet," Harry said with a grin.

"See how he talks to me, young Edward?" George said and Teddy giggled as he clapped his hands. "I'm expecting most of it to be desperately dull but something useful might come from it."

"I hope so," Harry said with a smile. "Come on, darling, just a couple more bites," he coaxed Teddy, who was hellbent on being in one of his fussy moods.

"Try him with some yoghurt," George suggested. "He normally never turns that down. I think we have some left, let me just – " He was interrupted by a tap at the window and he went over to retrieve the official-looking scroll from the sleek owl.

Harry's stomach lurched as he realised what it was and he met George's eyes as his pulse raced. George handed him the scroll and took Teddy from his arms while Harry looked at the scroll as though it might burst into flames at any moment.

"I don't know if I'm ready for this," he whispered. "What if I've failed them all?"

"You know that hasn't happened. Come on, open it. You can't put it off."

"I might be sick," Harry mumbled, trying to calm his breathing down. "Ok…ok let's get it over with." He broke the seal and unfurled the parchment, scanning the few lines of text.

"Well?" George asked expectantly.

Harry looked up at him, his eyes wide with bewilderment. "Es in everything…apart from Defence and Charms…which I got Os in."

"Congratulations!" George exclaimed, as he wrapped Harry up in a hug, Teddy in between them. "Oh Harry well done. I knew you could do it."

"I can't believe it," Harry whispered, wondering if perhaps someone had made a mistake.

"Isn't Uncle Harry a genius?" George asked Teddy. "He's going to become a healer! Isn't he clever?"

"I'm just so…surprised."

"I'm not, I always knew you had it in you."

Harry sat down at the table, still feeling a bit dazzled. "I really did it," he said with a slow smile.

"You really did," George agreed as he sat down opposite. "We'll have to celebrate in style when I get back from Barcelona."

"No alcohol," Harry said with a groan. "Not after last time."

George smiled and bounced Teddy on his lap as Harry tried to get his head around things. Come September he would be in the St Mungo's training programme, on his way to forging his career.

"I um…I suppose I should look into…accommodation," he said tentatively, broaching a subject he'd been deeply reluctant to talk about.

"Accommodation?" George repeated with a frown.

"Yeah…you know…student accommodation. I should probably think about sorting something out before term starts."

"I…I kind of assumed that you'd still want to live here," George said and Harry tried not to look too pleased.

"Well," Harry said carefully, "I was under the impression that this…arrangement was meant to be temporary but…if you're ok with it then…I'd love to stay."

"You'd bloody well better," George said and Harry couldn't help but grin at the possessive growl in the man's voice. "Moving out," George said with a tut, "what bloody nonsense."

He got up and busied himself with finding Teddy some yoghurt while Harry continued to grin stupidly. Everything seemed to be falling into place and the thought made him giddy. He'd aced his exams, was about to start his education as a healer and was going to carry on living in the place he loved with the man he was losing his heart to.

George's absence during the conference was as hard as Harry had expected it to be. He waved the man off with a smile and told him to have a good time, praying the week would go quickly. They hadn't been apart for nearly a year, as odd as the notion was, and Harry missed the man terribly. The flat was so empty without him and night-time was horrible having to sleep in their bed alone.

He took Teddy on days out and bothered Neville, who complained that he resented being used as merely a distraction while George was away. Harry was ashamed of himself for being quiet so pathetic but he was so used to living and working alongside the man that his absence was almost unbearable. There was nothing casual about the way he was feeling and he knew he and George had gone so very beyond that.

The night before George was due back, Harry moped around the flat and distracted himself with trying a few new baking recipes. It was not exactly his forte and he ended up with mostly burnt offerings apart from an intrepid Victoria Sponge that he was quite pleased with. He had ended up with butter, sugar and flour all over himself, including, somehow, his ears, so he decided a shower was in order before he turned in and spent the night hugging George's pillow.

He stayed under the hot spray for a while, wondering how George's week had gone and whether the man had missed him as much as he'd missed George. He couldn't help but imagine George and Erik attending talks together, going out for dinner in the evenings, George's eyes lighting up as he spoke with Erik about developing new products.

"Don't be a wanker," Harry admonished himself. "Erik's a decent guy, you _like_ him."

The problem was what if George liked him? The man was ridiculously handsome and George could talk to him for hours on end, his quick mind finding a connection with Erik's that obviously stimulated him. What if he could give George things that Harry simply couldn't?

"You're being a moron," Harry told himself as he wrenched off the water. If the way George held him or made love to him was any indication he had nothing to worry about but things were still so undefined between them that Harry couldn't help but worry.

He stepped out of the shower and roughly towel-dried his hair before wrapping the towel around his waist. He brushed his teeth and checked himself in the mirror to make sure all traces of baking ingredients were gone from his body. He left the bathroom and stopped in his tracks when he saw George stepping through the front door.

The man grinned at him and said, "Well now that's a rather delightful sight to be welcomed home with."

"What are you doing back here?" Harry asked, so thrilled to see the man that he actually felt light-headed.

"Decided to come home a day early," George said, shifting out of his outer robes and loosening his tie. "Back in that shower, Potter," he said with a look so smouldering that Harry was hard in an instant.

"What if I don't want to?" Harry asked with a smile and George crossed the room in a few long strides to press him against the door.

"Don't you want to?" George asked in a low voice, undoing the towel from Harry's waist and letting it fall to the ground. His hand travelled to wrap around Harry's bobbing erection and Harry all but purred with pleasure. "This says otherwise," George whispered wickedly.

Harry grabbed him and dragged him back into the bathroom as George spelled off the rest of his clothes before Harry turned the water back on and pulled them both under it. George's lips were on his in an instant and Harry groaned at how perfect it was. It had only been a week but God he'd missed this so much.

George's mouth was so perfect, his kisses utterly exquisite. Harry let the hot water pound over his skin as he let his hands rover over George's perfect body. He loved feeling the man's taut muscles beneath his palms, loved every inch of the man's skin as it pressed against his own.

He was turned around in George's arms, pulled tightly against the man's chest as George kissed his way down Harry's neck. "A week is far too long to be away from you. Merlin, I missed you so fucking much."

"Oh God me too," Harry whispered back, his voice trembling.

"I wanted to feel this gorgeous body beneath me so many times. Going to bed without you was fucking horrible, I missed having you in my arms so much."

"I thought about you every night," Harry confided, not caring if he sounded like a twat.

"Merlin Harry, you're perfection," George breathed next to his ear and Harry felt a thrill of pleasure go through him at George's words. "Brace yourself on the glass, love," George instructed gently and Harry did as he was told, closing his eyes as he felt George's lubricated fingers enter him.

He groaned as his head fell forward onto the glass, revelling in the feeling of George preparing him. George's breath was hot against his neck and he pushed himself back on the man's fingers, wanting to feel him as deeply as he could. The water felt fantastic against his skin and George's lips made a hot trail down his throat.

"Are you ready for me, love?" George asked in a gentle murmur.

"Oh God yes," Harry said emphatically, his body aching to feel George inside him.

George entered him in one long thrust, grasping hold of his shoulder with one hand and anchoring his hip with the other. Harry hummed with pleasure at the delicious sensation, his body feeling as though he had been deprived of it for months rather than merely a week.

George moved inside him with slow, deep thrusts and Harry savoured each one. He wouldn't go without this again for anything, it was too perfect to do without. The hand on Harry's shoulder travelled upwards to meet his hand, twining their fingers together.

"I've thought of nothing else all week," George whispered. "All I wanted was to come home and make love to you."

Harry's legs nearly buckled. That was the first time George had used those words and it overwhelmed him. They weren't just fucking, not anymore, they hadn't been for a long time. Whatever it was they had meant everything to Harry and he was determined to hold onto it with both hands.

George thrust harder and harder, and the hand on Harry's hip snaked over his stomach and down across his groin, taking hold of his erection. Harry groaned, pushing back against George as he impaled himself, the man hitting his prostate each time and sending wave after wave of pleasure through his body.

George stroked him firmly and Harry arched into the touch, giving himself up entirely to this man who he trusted more than anyone in the world. He came hard and with a strained gasp, George following only moments later. Harry rested his head on the glass as George's head came to loll on his shoulder. There was no sound apart from the falling water and their mingled heavy breathing. Harry felt blissful and he smiled happily, feeling complete for the first time in a week.

"Next time I decide to go away, tie me to the bed," George said, his voice a deep rumble against Harry's skin.

Harry laughed and said, "You have my word."

George slipped from him gently with a cleaning charm and wrapped his arms around Harry's waist. "Have you been behaving while I've been away?" he asked as he held Harry tightly against his chest.

"No," Harry said with a smile. "You'll have to punish me."

"Mm, let me recover and I'll do just that."

They spent a few minutes using the shower for its intended purpose then retired to their bedroom, lazy and sated as they lay in bed together and discussed George's week. Parts of it did indeed sound dreadfully dull but George had picked up some interesting techniques and made some contacts that would hopefully come in useful.

Harry basked in having George back, knowing he was being a daft sod, but a week had felt like a lifetime. He let his eyes linger over the man's handsome face, delighting in the mischievous, crooked smile and the beautiful blue eyes that always danced with laughter. He knew that waxing poetical was a bloody dangerous sign but he loved every facet of George's face and drank in the opportunity to study it.

He tried not to be too soppy over the next few days, he was behaving as though George had returned from war, not a bloody week-long conference. George seemed to have similar feelings, though, and barely a moment went by without George touching him, even if it was only a brief touch to the small of his back or George's hands on his hips while he moved past him.

Harry was so pleased the issue of him still living there had been sorted. His heart would have broken if he'd had to leave and find somewhere else to live. He loved their flat and it felt more like home than even Hogwarts had done. It was strange but, the longer he lived there, the _more_ he felt Fred's presence. It was as though Fred was granting them his blessing, looking down on them with a smile of approval.

"Harry, am I free on the 21st June?" George asked, rifling through the papers that were spread out all over the dining table.

"Shouldn't you be using the office downstairs for all of this?" Harry asked, trying to find a missing saucer beneath all the mess.

"Can't be arsed. Can I do the 21st?" he asked again.

"Do what on it?"

"Erik wants to meet with a contact of his to discuss a new line of these nostalgia potions we've been working on. We need to tweak them if we want them on the market by Christmas.

"Oh right," Harry said, busying himself with the washing up to avoid the usual feelings that arose whenever Erik's name was mentioned. He knew he was being an idiot but he just couldn't help himself. "Yes I think you're free."

"Excellent," George said, extracting a spare piece of parchment and searching for a quill. Harry smiled and handed him a pen, which George took, saying, "What would I do without you?"

"God knows I've tried to organise you but it's an impossible task."

"Hopeless cause, that's me."

Harry ran his fingers through George's hair and leant down to press a gentle kiss to the man's lips. "God knows why I stick around," he said, kissing along George's jaw.

"I'm good in bed?" George ventured with a grin.

"Mm, can't argue with that."

"Care to put my skills to the test?" George asked with a glint in his eye Harry knew all too well.

Harry laughed and said, "You might be good in bed but your time-keeping's appalling. You've got a meeting with Rosa in 15 minutes."

"Oh damn! I'd forgotten."

Rosa was the General Manger George had hired to oversee both the shop in Diagon and what had formerly been Zonko's. She was capable and efficient, with just the right spark of mischief to understand the nature of George's business. Harry vaguely remembered her from school; a Ravenclaw four or five years above him with a sharp mind and an even sharper tongue.

"She'll string me up if I'm late…again," George said, looking mildly concerned by the thought. "See you later, love. I'll bring dinner home, save us from cooking."

Harry spent the next few days organising himself in preparation for beginning at St Mungo's, even though it was a couple of months away. He met with Neville and they spent a day purchasing course books and comparing schedules. Neville was going to be as busy as he was and both of them were excited to begin the next steps of their education.

Neville had so many ideas for his future and now his passion for his subject was matched by his confidence. He had plans to set up specialist greenhouses in England and already had a target market he wanted to hit when he was established. There was a keen-eyed businessman emerging from the blundering schoolboy and Harry had no doubt the man would accomplish all he wanted.

"Where is this meeting then?" Harry asked George a few days later as he watched the man check that he had everything in his valise.

"Durham of all places. I just hope we don't have to spend too long hashing out terms. Erik says this guy likes to try and squeeze blood from a stone."

"I'm sure you can haggle him down. Will you be back in time for dinner?"

"Mm, not sure. Don't bother waiting for me just in case. How do I look?"

"Gorgeous," Harry said, trying not to sound too moody. He hated it when George spent any time with Erik, no matter how irrational it was.

"Why thank you, Mr Potter. You know how to boost a fella's ego. I'll see you when I get back, have a good day." He gave Harry a quick peck on the lips and apparated away with a grin.

Harry tried to keep himself busy throughout the day and tried to block out thoughts of Erik and George together. The hours ticked on and evening drew nearer. George was normally back from business meetings earlier than this and Harry couldn't help but wonder what he and Erik might be getting up to.

Had they gone out to dinner together? Perhaps on for drinks? It became later and later and Harry got more and more agitated. He had no claim on George, the man could do whatever he bloody wanted but it smarted all the same.

He read and watched TV but he took nothing in, looking up hopefully at the door every time he heard the slightest noise. He was angry and wound up, wondering where the bloody hell George was and what he was getting up to. Would the man come home and tell him? Would he be honest if he slept with Erik?

He was about to give the whole thing up for a lost cause and go to bed when the front door finally opened. "Oh you're still up!" George exclaimed as he stumbled through the door.

"You're drunk," Harry said disapprovingly, folding his arms.

"Ssh, don't tell anyone," George said with a sloppy grin. "I _might_ have had one too many firewhiskies but I can hold my drink, Mr Potter."

"That's a matter of opinion," Harry said tartly. "I'm going to bed, goodnight."

"Hey, come on! I was hoping you'd be in the mood for a nice little quickie."

"I would have thought you'd had your fill tonight. It seems a bit foolish to be mixing business with pleasure but it's your call I suppose."

"What the bloody hell are you talking about?" George asked with a frown, tripping over the coffee table as he moved closer to Harry.

"Don't play innocent," Harry said impatiently. "It's nearly one in the morning, don't tell me you and Erik have just been talking business all this time."

"We took the potions guy out for dinner and ended up making a night of it. What do you – "

"Yes, I'm sure you made a night of it. I'm sure you made a good week of it when you were away in Barcelona too," Harry said, hating the tone in his voice, hating how nasty he sounded.

"What does that mean?" George asked, seeming genuinely baffled.

"You know what it means. Well if you want to go off with Erik then fine, just let me know and I'll find somewhere else to live."

George was wide-eyed and silent for a moment, looking at Harry as though he'd grown another head. "Are you mad?" he said eventually. "I mean are you actually insane?"

"What? You're telling me you're not sleeping with Erik?" Harry asked sourly.

"Of course I'm bloody not, you lunatic!"

"Oh and why not?" Harry asked, not willing to believe him.

George took a deep breath and said, "Well, for one thing, Erik's 100% straight, not a curious bone in his body, including mine by the way. He's engaged to an American and they're looking at moving over here permanently. The wedding's next year."

"Oh," Harry said quietly, the wind knocked right out of his sails.

"Secondly," George said, moving closer still, now seeming frighteningly sober, "I'm head over heels in love with you, you bloody halfwit."

Harry was rendered speechless and he stood staring at the man like a fish that had been knocked on the head until George continued, "I've been in love with you for years."

"Years?" Harry squeaked.

"Mm. I've fancied you since I was 15 and I've been in love with you since I was 16 and I watched you rescue Fleur's sister from the lake long with Ron. I thought perhaps it was only teenage infatuation but it seemed to get worse as time went on. When you came to live here…well…I was lost. The first time we slept together was one of the most amazing nights of my life."

"But…but it was casual, you said it was casual!" Harry sputtered, having trouble processing what he'd heard.

"Because I thought that was what you needed. You were fresh out of a war, trying to figure out if you liked blokes, enjoying your first taste of freedom. I didn't want to put any pressure on you. Maybe I was an idiot doing things that way but I wanted to help you explore things, keep you safe."

"But you…but you love me," Harry whispered, the words feeling strange in his mouth.

"Yes," George said softly, "yes I do. And let me tell you something; making love to you has been so fucking amazing but I'd trade it for the nights you've slept in my arms, the times we've comforted one another, the moments we've exchanged a hundred gentle touches, the affection we've built. Nothing feels as perfect as holding you while you sleep or watching you with Teddy or…fuck…even just making dinner together."

Harry smiled as George voiced all the things that he himself had thought over the months. He wouldn't trade the closeness between them for the world and George meant more to him than anything ever had. "Have I fucked this all up?" Harry asked, frightened of the answer.

George sighed and said, "Don't be such a daft sod. It's my fault, I should have told you how I felt months ago, I should have told you that I wanted to make things official, that I wanted you all for myself."

Harry couldn't stop the grin that made its way onto his face. "Is that still how you feel?" he asked.

"Of course it bloody is! I love you, I love you so much sometimes I think I'm going mad!"

"Well…snap," Harry said, deciding that, if George had put his cards on the table, it was time for him to do so too.

"What do you mean, 'snap'?" George asked, looking bewildered.

"I mean that I'm in love with you too, you idiot! I couldn't imagine having what we have with anyone else and I wouldn't want to! You're the most amazing person I've ever met and you make me feel safe and excited at the same time. I love the fun times and I love the little domestic moments we have. I love raising Teddy with you and I love how supportive you are. I just…I just love you," he finished with a smile.

"Well, this has been quite a night of revelations, hasn't it?" George said wryly.

"Been a long time coming I reckon. Are we ok?"

"Of course we're bloody ok," George said, reaching out and pulling Harry into his arms. "I happen to be in love with a bloke who loves me back. What could be more perfect than that?"

"And you're not just with me for my incredible fame?" Harry asked with a grin.

"Well yeah, you got me. Dating the Chosen One will look great for business. I intend to capitalise on it."

"Fancy capitalising on something else tonight, Mr Weasley?" Harry asked, wanting nothing more than to drag George into the bedroom and make love for the first time as an actual couple who had made a commitment to one another.

"Oh, Mr Potter, I'd like nothing more."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See, I didn't make you all suffer, I made our boys happy! There's just the epilogue to go after this and then we're done, my darlings. I hope you enjoyed the chapter, please let me know what you thought.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15  


_~ Christmas Eve 2001 ~_

"Would you please stop messing around? You're making Teddy look mature."

"Oh don't be such a spoilsport."

"He's just eaten his bodyweight in sugar. If you keep doing that he's going to chuck up all over you."

"Chuck up? Is that your official healer's diagnosis?"

Harry folded his arms and tried to make himself impervious to George's impish grin. He was watching the man bounce Teddy on his shoulders while the little boy shrieked with delight.

"On your head be it," Harry said imperiously. "It's you he'll be throwing up all over."

"Again, Uncle George!" Teddy laughed.

"Once more and then that'll do," George said as Teddy clung on tightly before he spun around quickly as Teddy squealed.

Harry watched with a smile, shaking his head fondly as George stopped spinning, looking as though he might be sick himself. "Alright boys, are we done with behaving like loons?"

"Yes sir," George said, wrapping an arm around Harry's shoulders and pressing a kiss to his temple. "What's next on the agenda?"

Harry nestled into George's hold and smiled up at their godson, who was still perched happily on George's shoulders, delighted with his position. "What do you want to do, darling?" he asked the little boy. "We have an hour before we have to get you back to Gran's."

"Can we go skating?"

"Excellent idea, Mr Lupin. We can laugh at Uncle Harry trying to stay upright."

"Mean," said Harry, prodding George in the ribs. "Come on then, boys. Ice skating it is."

They had Teddy for the day and had been keeping up the traditions that Harry had set down for the last couple of years. They always went to the Christmas market in Diagon, followed by carol singing in the main square.

They then usually went for hot chocolate and bought Teddy far too many sweets, after which the ice rink at Hogsmeade beckoned. They would always finish off the day with a visit to Santa's grotto and Harry would watch, enchanted, as Teddy sat on Santa's lap, his eyes wide with wonder.

They had an informal arrangement with Andromeda where Teddy's care was concerned and the little boy spent half his time living with them. Harry and George both adored him and, while it was sometimes hard juggling childcare with work and studying, it was more than worth it. Teddy was happy and healthy and Harry loved that he was an integral part of the boy's life.

They apparated to Hogsmeade and headed for the ice rink, renting skates and helping Teddy on with his. For all the grace and skill Harry possessed on a broomstick, he was a hopeless ice skater, and he clung to the sides while George whizzed around with Teddy.

He couldn't understand how anyone could manage to stay upright on ice, it wasn't bloody natural. He wouldn't have gone near the place if Teddy didn't love it so much but he was content to make a twat of himself if it pleased his godson.

"Oh darling," George said with a laugh as he skated over to Harry, holding Teddy's hand as the little boy skated ably beside him. "You look a picture."

"Shut up, you show-off."

"Is it embarrassing that our 3 and a half year old godson is showing you up?"

"Teasing someone for their shortcomings isn't really in the spirit of Christmas, is it?"

"Oh look at that pout, you're so adorable," George said with a grin, leaning over and giving Harry a chaste peck on the lips.

"Uncle Harry, come and skate," Teddy implored.

"I'm doing my best," Harry groused as his feet slid from underneath him and he had to cling onto the side for dear life. "I mean it's ridiculous. I don't know how anyone stays upright."

"It's really quite easy," Teddy said with a shrug.

"Well I'm glad you think you," Harry replied grumpily.

George chuckled and said, "Stay here for a bit, my love and I'll take Teddy out for a spin."

Harry continued to grab onto the side while he watched George waltz around the rink with Teddy. Despite his own lack of skill at the Christmas past-time, he loved watching them enjoy themselves and he always turned to a soppy mess whenever he watched George and Teddy together, regardless of the fact that Teddy was an almost permanent fixture in their lives.

He knew it was still a fair way into the future, he was only 21 after all, but he knew with utter certainty that he wanted a family with George. He wanted the man to be the father of his children, wanted to share the trials and tribulations of parenthood with him and he couldn't wait to watch George with their children the way he watched him with Teddy.

He was eventually coaxed away from clutching onto the railings and he allowed himself to be led to the centre of the rink while he clung onto George with tight fingers. Teddy kept declaring how easy it was, whilst showing off how he was able to skate smoothly, totally unaided, while Harry inched forward in sputtering movements.

"Alright, can we go now?" Harry pleaded as his feet began heading in separate directions.

"Watch me spin, Uncle Harry," Teddy said excitedly before performing a funny kind of pirouette, propelled by one foot as though he was on a skateboard.

"That's wonderful, pumpkin. Very impressive," Harry said, wondering if he could perhaps apparate back to the safety of the side.

"Shall we take pity on Uncle Harry, my love?"

"But I like skating," Teddy protested.

"Don't you want to go and see Father Christmas?" George asked as he held Harry's waist tightly.

"Oh yes please!" Teddy said with wide eyes, obviously having forgotten that the special visit was on the cards.

"Thank God for that," Harry said with a relieved sigh, letting George guide him gently to the edge.

They retrieved their shoes, Harry very thankful to be back on solid ground, and headed towards the other end of the village to the Christmas grotto. Teddy chatted excitedly between them as they walked and Harry and George shared an indulgent smile as they listened to him.

They were met at the grotto by a teenage girl in an elf costume who clearly took her role very seriously. It was as though she'd been imbued with every last drop of Christmas spirit and Teddy was absolutely enchanted by her. She led him away to meet the reindeer and George and Harry watched with a smile.

The grotto was full of Christmas things and the children had to work their way around the impressive display before they found Father Christmas waiting for them. Teddy's favourite thing was the intricately-designed train set that wended its way through Christmas scenes and his little eyes lit up as he followed its magical path.

"I can't believe our baby's going to be 4 in a few months," George murmured as he wrapped his arms around Harry's waist and rested his chin on his shoulder.

Harry smiled and snuggled in closer as they watched the little boy looking at the Christmas scene with wonder. George often referred to Teddy in such terms, as though he was their son and not just their godchild. They were fathers to him in all but name and Harry often found himself thinking of Teddy as his, as theirs.

Teddy found his way to Father Christmas and Harry and George watched, hand-in-hand, as the little boy sat on his lap and recounted his Christmas wishes. "Thank God I managed to find that dinosaur set in time," Harry whispered and George chuckled.

"No one could be more devoted to Christmas than you, my love."

They returned Teddy to Andromeda's in time for his tea and left with the promise that they would return for lunch on Boxing Day as they always did. They had taken to hosting friends at theirs on Christmas Eve so they returned home to prepare for everyone's arrival.

"Have I told you today how ridiculously handsome you are?" George asked as he pulled Harry close the moment they were back in the flat.

"You're only saying that because you want to get your leg over," Harry said with a grin.

"We have time before everyone arrives," George insisted. "And you _are_ ridiculously handsome. I can't take my eyes off you."

"Good, I like having your eyes on me," Harry said as he pulled George into the bedroom, both making short work of their clothes as they went.

It had been over three years and they knew every inch of each other's skin. They knew exactly how to interpret each other's needs and desires and how to satisfy them completely. Harry had expected their sex life to dip after a while together but, while the frequency had slowed down a little, the quality of that side of things was better than ever.

He pulled George close, their kisses hot and heavy as their bare skin met. A tingle ran up his spine at the contact, his body reacting immediately to George's touch. "Mm, don't need foreplay, too impatient," he muttered, while he arched into George's skilled hands.

"My insatiable brat," George chuckled against his throat. "How do you want me, gorgeous?" he asked, his hands travelling down to cup Harry's backside firmly.

Harry answered by pushing him down onto the bed and straddling him, a well-timed preparation charm enabling him to slide down onto George's hard length in one fluid motion. They both groaned in appreciation and Harry gripped George's shoulders as the man wrapped his arms tightly around him.

Harry moved his hips rhythmically, taking George inside him over and over again, revelling in the feeling of the man's hard length impaling him. George's hands moved against the muscles of his back and Harry's hands slid up into George's hair, George's expression so gorgeously focused on him that Harry thought he could lose himself in it.

"Oh baby you feel so good," George whispered, rolling his hips to match Harry's movements.

Harry hummed his agreement, biting his lip as he continued to move, George's hands hot and firm against his skin. He often lost himself in these moments, able to trust George so completely that he could allow himself that rare opportunity to let go, knowing that George would protect him.

They both loved switching and Harry would never give up topping for the world but he loved having George inside him more than anything. The feeling of the man's hardness moving within him was utter perfection and he closed his eyes as he rocked harder, the pleasure beginning to pulse through him.

"Open those eyes, gorgeous. I want to see you," George instructed with a breathy whisper as he thrust up into Harry's willing body.

Harry complied and met George's dazzling blue eyes. God but he loved the man's face, loved the intensity of his expressions during these moments. With a wicked quirk of his lip, George grasped Harry's straining prick and moved his lubricated hand up and down it expertly.

"You're coming to come for me, love and then I'm going to flip you over and fuck you senseless."

"Fuck yes," Harry moaned. He loved it when George was vocal in the bedroom, it always undid him completely. George stroked him firmly, rolling his palm over the head of his cock and keeping the pressure deliciously consistent. He rode George hard in time with the man's strokes, his hands grasping George's shoulders tightly.

"Oh fuck," he breathed, pleasure coiling tightly inside him. He held George's devilish gaze, his own lip caught between his teeth as his orgasm built and built until it finally overwhelmed him and he came hard, spilling himself all over George's hand.

After only a moment of allowing him to catch his breath, George kept his word and flipped Harry onto his back, managing to stay deep inside him. Harry, still in a post-orgasm haze, lay back with a contented grin as George used his body mercilessly, pounding into him with abandon.

"God I fucking love you," he breathed next to Harry's ear before his body went taut and he came with a shudder.

Harry weaved his fingers through George's hair as they lay trying to get their breath back. In those moments he wanted to keep George inside him for as long as possible and always felt bereft when the man slipped from him.

"Mm, what a fantastic Christmas present," George almost purred as he pulled out gently and rolled to the side as he cast a cleaning charm.

"Yours or mine?" Harry asked with a grin as he slid his arm around George's slim torso.

George laughed and said, "Both," dropping a kiss on top of Harry's head. They lay in a contented pile for a while, George stroking Harry's hair while Harry traced lazy patterns on George's cooling skin.

Eventually they migrated to the shower and kissed languidly beneath the hot stream of water. Harry always treasured these moments of post-sex bliss, where George's gentle touches flooded him with contentment. He loved George's affectionate nature, loved the thousand little touches the man bestowed on him during the day and how each one made him feel loved and cherished.

They were ready in time to welcome their guests and everyone was in lively spirits. They didn't see Lee, Dean and Seamus as often as they used to but it was always fun when they did meet up. Oliver and Gin, who had been a couple for nearly two years, visited as often as they could, but their quidditch careers kept them both busy.

Oliver was captaining the England team and Ginny had been scouted straight out of school to play for the Holyhead Harpies. She had begun as a reserve and had been playing as Chaser for nearly a year. She had the England team in her sights and was working hard towards that goal.

It was Neville who they saw most regularly, despite the fact that he lived in Germany on an almost full-time basis. He came home most weekends and would often meet with Harry and George, accompanying them on outings with Teddy or popping out for a Friday night drink.

Ron and Hermione had settled permanently in Australia and were both working for the wizarding government. They popped back for occasional visits and Harry and George went over when their schedules allowed. Harry missed them but their relationship was strong enough to withstand the distance and when they did see each other they picked up where they'd left off with little difficulty.

"I still can't believe we didn't know," Seamus said with a laugh.

"Excuse me, _I_ knew," Neville said, smirking at Harry. "It was so bloody obvious."

"It never occurred to me that they were shagging."

Harry and George's relationship was often a topic of conversation and nearly everyone had expressed disbelief that they'd spent so much time sleeping together without realising they were in a relationship.

"They were so obviously in love," Neville said with a snort.

Harry tilted his head to smile up at George, who was sitting behind him on the floor, Harry nestled comfortably against his chest. George leant down and pressed a kiss to his temple, nuzzling him with his nose.

" _Are_ so obviously in love," George corrected, holding Harry tightly.

"God, don't they make you sick?" Seamus said good-naturedly, and Harry stuck his tongue out at him.

"Yes," Neville said, rolling his eyes. Harry knew he didn't mean it, not really, but his latest brief relationship with a fellow student at the Institute had ended badly a month or so ago and he was still smarting slightly.

Neville seemed intent on keeping most things casual, which was probably why Marc had bowed out already. Harry knew Neville's primary focus was his education and trying to build a business but it always felt as though Neville simply didn't want to commit himself to anything fully.

"I like to think that I broke him in, gave him a taste for Weasleys," Ginny said with a wicked smile as she sat snuggled in the armchair with Oliver.

"Oh Jesus, Gin," Harry said with a groan.

"What a lovely thought," George said dryly. "As long as you don't want him back, I'm holding onto this one."

Harry threaded their fingers together and cuddled in closer, loving George's declaration. The man often said things like that and each time it made Harry feel so secure. They were both in it for the long haul and neither of them was going anywhere.

"How goes the house-hunting?" Dean asked, and Harry and George both groaned.

"Bloody awful so far," Harry said. "I think our estate agent may actually be the most useless person on the planet."

They were taking the rather large step of buying a house together but had yet to find the perfect one. They were outgrowing the flat, especially as Teddy got older, and George wanted to be closer to the office and workshop he and Erik had in Berkshire now they were officially business partners.

They both wanted somewhere quiet, away from the hustle and bustle of a city, and Harry was quite taken with the idea of a renovated farmhouse. He wanted somewhere that could grow into a family home if and when children came along and he was excited at the idea of creating a home with the man he loved.

"We should look for someone else come the New Year, see if we have more luck," George said stroking Harry's arm.

"I think Hannah Abbot's cousin has an agency," Ginny said. "You could try them."

Talk turned to work and study and the various endeavours they were all undertaking. George and Erik's partnership was going from strength to strength while Dean and Seamus had gone into business running The Hog's Head together. Harry was still waiting for them to drink all their profits but they seemed to be managing fairly well together.

"How's placement going?" Neville asked and Harry smiled.

"Great so far. It's lovely to spend some time out of the classroom and get some practical experience."

He was now in his third year of healer training and, despite the often very hard work, he loved every minute of it. He now got to shadow a Senior Healer on the wards three days a week and, although he sometimes had to handle a starstruck patient, he loved the work.

"He looks so fucking sexy in his healers robes," George said, his voice low, and Harry grinned. "It's a struggle letting him out the door some days."

"Oh please, must we?" Neville said, rolling his eyes.

"Well it's true, he looks damn good."

The evening continued pleasantly and everyone said their goodbyes around midnight. Harry watched them go, nerves beginning to assault him as he patted the small box nestled in his pocket. He'd been debating the perfect moment and decided to just follow his gut, go for the time that felt right.

He knew he didn't have any reason to be nervous, not really, but surely everyone felt this way beforehand, regardless of the circumstances. He braced himself and walked over to George, wrapping his arms around him and kissing him deeply.

"Mm, what was that for?" George asked, letting his hands run up and down Harry's back.

"Just can't resist you," Harry said with a smile. "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, my love."

"I…I want to give you one of your presents early," he said, feeling his heartbeat speed up.

"Ooh, I wouldn't say no, you know how I love presents."

"Well, I hope you'll like this one."

Taking a deep breath, Harry extracted the small box from his pocket and paused before he opened it to reveal a slim, platinum band. "George, will you marry me?" he asked, thankful his voice didn't break.

Whatever response Harry might have expected or hoped for, laughter hadn't been among them. He stood there in disbelief as George shook his head as he chuckled and used all his restraint not to throw the ring at the pillock's head.

"Oh darling, I'm sorry," George said, still smiling. "I'm not laughing at you, I promise," he said, cupping Harry's cheeks and looking contrite.

"Should I take this as a 'no'?" Harry asked, feeling like an utter twat.

George grinned then reached into his own pocket, extracting a very similar-looking box. He opened it to reveal an almost identical ring and said, "You beat me to it. I had a very romantic proposal planned too."

Harry stared at the ring in disbelief before he looked up at George and broke out in a smile. "You're asking me to marry you?"

"Well I was going to but instead I think I'll just accept your proposal."

"I can't believe this," Harry said with a laugh. "We're such twats."

"Too late to back out now, Potter," George said, taking the ring Harry was holding and placing it on his finger. He held up his hand and said, "Nice choice, it looks great. Your turn."

Harry took the ring from George's box and placed it on his own finger, feeling absolutely giddy. "Holy fuck, did we just get engaged?" he asked.

"I'd say so, Mr Potter. I'd say so," George said with a smile. "And…I have a request."

"Engagement sex?" Harry said with a grin.

"Well that's a given, obviously. I expect you to have me naked and bent over the sofa before I can say 'groom' but I actually wanted to ask about our wedding date."

"Oh?" Harry said, feeling a thrill go through him at the thought of their wedding.

"I…I'd like to get married on my birthday," George ventured.

"You would?"

"I know April Fool's Day seems a bit daft for a wedding but…for the last few years my birthday hasn't exactly been a barrel of laughs. I want to…I don't know…reclaim the date, make it something worth celebrating, mark it with joining myself to the love of my life."

"Oh love," Harry said, touched beyond words. "Of course we can, I'd be honoured."

"Next year?" George asked hopefully.

"As in four months from now?" Harry asked, surprised.

"I've never been more sure of anything than I am of my feelings for you. I know what I want and I want you to be my husband. But if you think it's too soon – "

"No, no I think it's perfect," Harry said, sliding his arms around George's neck. "I can't wait to be your husband."

He felt giddy at saying the word 'husband' and he couldn't believe he was actually going to be George's in four months' time. It seemed another world when he had thought they were no more than fuck buddies, and here they were about to commit their lives to one another.

"You want to hear something pretty amazing?" George asked, running his hands gently up and down Harry's back. Harry nodded with a smile and George said softly, "I was able to cast a patronus the other day."

"Oh George," Harry said, overwhelmed for George's sake. The man had been unable to cast one since Fred's death and it had been a constant thorn of grief for him.

"I thought of you. I thought of how far we've come together, the future we have in front of us. I don't know what I would have done without you, I'm honestly not sure I'd still be here today if it weren't for you."

"You saved me too, in more ways than you know. I can't wait for our future together, I can't wait to build it with you."

"You know you'll never be rid of me, don't you?" George asked with a grin and Harry returned it as he pulled himself closer.

"I'm banking on it, Mr Weasley. I'm banking on it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're done! I really hope you enjoyed it and I can't wait to hear your thoughts on the epilogue. This isn't quite the end of the road for our boys as they're going to pop up in my next fic - a Neville/Draco story that takes place in this timeline/universe, so you'll be able to see what they're up to a few years down the road.
> 
> Lots of love my dears x


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